


Strings

by lokidiabolus



Series: Strings [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner, the maze runner
Genre: M/M, a prompt from nomadshipper from Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 88,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidiabolus/pseuds/lokidiabolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas is a faithful, reliable guy. Maybe also too predictable, but his life always made sense, all lined up. That all changes when his friends think the best birthday gift is a meeting with a stranger for a one night stand. After that everything Thomas knew until now shatters to pieces.<br/>Trailer by amazing Rsprodz: http://lokidiabolus.tumblr.com/post/107108188290/rsprodz-thomas-newt-strings-fanfic-trailer !</p><p>Adding One-shots into this file as well ^.^ Every one shot will be labeled accordingly :) The main story ended with the Epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Card

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nomadshipper](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nomadshipper).



Thomas thought losing his mind would be different. Maybe with more symptoms, like forgetting the keys or putting the bread in the fridge and dishes on the balcony. Or suddenly thinking his name was Bob and he was Satan or something equally fine.

But he never felt anything, or his close friends kept it a secret - he wasn’t sure, they were evil anyway - but the point stayed. He had probably lost his mind: how else would he be able to explain why exactly he appeared here, in dim-lit club, clutching a glass of who-knows-what, staring at an appointment card with golden lining at the edges? He had been doing it for at least ten minutes already, completely stiff and unable to understand his own decision to actually come here and use it.

It all started with Minho and Teresa being all enigmatic with his birthday. He was afraid they wanted to throw a pompous party which would end with either police or firemen appearing, but they surprised him with something better – or worse, it depended how you looked at it. Thomas thought it was better at first, but now he more inclined to worse, maybe disastrous even. What was he thinking? What were they thinking?

Thomas was always a faithful, reliable guy. He liked to think, at least at some point, that his relationships were stable and fine, no dramas, and no ups and down, just a consistent flow of two people together. As much as he found it convenient, he had never actually had a relationship that lasted more than half a year (and that was only once. The average duration was around 3-4 months in total). He usually wasn’t the one who ended it though, it was the girl. Almost boring, they said. Something was missing. Something wasn’t as it should have been. No time. No passion. Everything too calculated.

And so Thomas got the label “predictable” and it bothered him so much Minho and Teresa got fed up with his moping and gave him _this_.

A card.

An appointment card.

To a club.

To a No Strings Attached club. It was conveniently hidden under the NSA acronym, something that sounded mysterious and maybe a little sinister, and if you didn’t live in this world, such abbreviation meant nothing to you.

At first Thomas had thought it was something illegal. Something that Minho decided to try, because he loved to play with fire, and Teresa was mad enough to actually support him in that. When they took him out for lunch and presented the elegantly made card with a date, time and place on it, he didn’t know what to expect.

_“A b-day gift,” Minho said with a grin. “So you stop with your moping. No offence, man, but your whining is getting tiresome.”_

_“Gee, thanks,” Thomas shot him a glare, but it had a zero effect on the guy. He had known Minho for years and he was used to his smartass remarks already. The Korean guy was always able to either lift his spirits from a deep pit of darkness, or shoot him down from the glorified perch he set himself at and stayed too long. He kept him_ balanced _, at the right spot, at the right place, with the right attitude, and Thomas wasn’t shy to admit he had trusted this guy completely._

_“It was,” Teresa added to the conversation, sipping her martini. “And hearing this from me, that’s saying something.”_

_“Well, I’m sorry to be mopey after I got dumped,” Thomas frowned at the black haired woman unhappily and she only tilted her head to the side. Teresa was his childhood friend, and sometimes Thomas wondered how she managed to stay that way until now. The gal was clever, independent and strong – she never needed anyone to reach her goals and Thomas admired that skill until she tried to control his life as well, as if she was his mother. At that point he drew the line, and it wasn’t something she was used to. They had their bad days because of that._

_“You just need to let out some steam, man,” Minho tapped his finger at the card. “You know what, go in, have fun, go out, and forget about it.”_

_“What?”_

_“Like popping a cork,” the Korean smirked and clicked his tongue, making Thomas groan._

_“Are you implying what I think you are?” he didn’t even wanted to know the answer – Minho’s shit-eating grin was saying it all._

_“One night stand anonymous,” Teresa joined the conversation again, her tone light, a typical_ no big deal _approach she had at times. It usually fit, but with this topic Thomas didn’t understand why she even attempted it._

_Anonymous one night stands? No way. Thomas never did that, and he didn’t want to try it anytime soon either. Why would they even give this to him? It was like they didn’t even know him._

_“Are you kidding me?” he gave them both an evil eye. “One night stand? Who do you think you’re talking to?”_

_“A guy who needs to unwind,” Minho shrugged. “You’ve been like this for two weeks, and how I see it you’re not going to fall out of it anytime soon without a good push.”_

_“And a good push is having sex with random persont?” Thomas barked out a laugh. “Seriously? That’s nasty.”_

_“I’d go,” Teresa shrugged. “The club has the best reviews. It’s not just someone you meet there. All the people are accredited, and mostly on high places of society.”_

_“Oh god,” Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Some horny executives then? One night stands with those… pigs…?”_

_“You’re one of those pigs,” Minho reminded him. “How do you think you got the card after all?”_

_“_ You _got the card.”_

 _“For_ you _,” the Korean gestured towards the object of their talk. “It’s not like you have to fuck them, yeah? But you seriously need to do at least something about this state you‘re in.”_

_“I’m fine!” Thomas exclaimed a little too loudly and when people around them started to shuffle and glance towards them, he hunched to himself and dropped his voice lower. “You can’t expect me to go there. Seriously. Me? Never.”_

_“Told you,” Teresa said with a sigh, looking at Minho as if she just won a bet and the price was a cup with bitterness. “Waste of the effort. As always.”_

_“Well, excuse me for not-.”_

_“Don’t bother,” she cut Thomas off sternly. “I’ll send you a fruit basket tomorrow. Or something. Happy birthday.”_

_With that she finished her drink, stood up and got dressed into a long, elegant red coat._

_“I’ll pay for this useless afternoon,” she told them both and before Thomas could react (and he wanted to, he just didn’t know_ how exactly _yet) she stalked towards the bar and after a while she got out of the restaurant._

_“She’s hot when she gets pissy,” Minho remarked as matter of speech and Thomas groaned. “But really. Try it. Just turn your brain off for one stupid night. Have fun. Get sweaty. Maybe it’s gonna be the best sex you ever had. And you don’t even need to get back to them after, a sweet little bonus.”_

_“Minho…”_

_“Just give it a shot. I mean, if you really don’t want to, just burn the card. But it would be a waste,” Minho patted him on the shoulder. ”If it’s gonna be someone nasty, you can always leave. Say it was a mistake. Or maybe they will. Who knows. Stuff can happen.”_

_“You’d really go if someone gave this to you?” Thomas reached for the card hesitantly, twirling it in between his fingers, and Minho chuckled._

_“In a heartbeat,” he confirmed it. “It’s exciting, yeah? It has this dangerous spark in it.”_

_“That’s what bothers me,” Thomas mumbled unhappily._

_“Look,” Minho nudged him with a smile and typed something fast on his phone, which made Thomas’ cell light up with a received message. “The club is on that address. Go there before the meeting. Look around. Maybe you can get a good guess about what’s going to happen, yeah?”_

_“It’s a different address than what’s on the card,” Thomas pointed out with furrowed brows when he read the message. “Why?”_

_“The meeting is scheduled by them,” Minho shrugged. “Meaning the club is a place for finding a partner, but when you actually get an appointment, they give you the exact day, time and place to meet with the person. To keep it clean and, well, anonymous.”_

_Thomas stared at the burned data on the card, and the uneasiness crept on him unmercifully. There was just no way, he thought at the time. No way would he go, to risk it._

_Oh god, the heavy risk he went under with that. What if she was going to be a criminal? Masochist? Some dominatrix with high heels and handcuffs and a riding crop?_

“I don’t really think the glass is going to give you any answers you seek,” an unexpected voice made him flinch, and he returned back to the present – which was him sitting at the barstool at the NSA club. The glass was still almost full, the card laying on the counter, laughing at him with its carved initials, and he wasn’t even sure what he was really doing there.

The bartender was looking at him with raised eyebrows, and Thomas realized it had been him who talked before. It was a big guy, definitely taller and bulkier than Thomas himself, and he wasn’t really sure what to make of him at the first look – he seemed like he was able to swing at you with his fist as well as sit down and listen to any mopey monologue while flexing his muscles.

“Was a good shot,” Thomas croaked out and the bartender put down the glass he was polishing.

“Looks like you got hooked up?” he pointed at the card Thomas put on the table and the brunet only nodded silently. The appointment was dated on Saturday, two days from today, and Thomas grew more and more nervous each passing day. “Well, don’t look so happy, I may go blind from all this enthusiasm.”

Thomas gave him an evil look, but the bartender only shrugged it off and picked another glass.

“Are there rules?” he decided to ask after a moment of silence and the man behind the counter snorted.

“Like what? Bring flowers?”

“Very funny.”

“Well, you asked if there are rules for an anonymous fuck, stupid question, stupid answer,” the big guy answered and Thomas grumbled something incoherent. “You get the place, you get the time. You go there, you have fun, you leave. That’s about it. What else do you want? A manual how to get your pants off?”

“Well, maybe to know if the chick is going to be a dom or-,”

“A chick? How can you be so sure?” the bartender interrupted him in an amused tone.

“Wait, I can get a guy too?”

“You can get a horse for what I care,” the big guy grinned. “But yes, of course. You get what you get.”

“A guy?” Thomas blinked few times. “But…”

“Don’t be a baby,” the bartender rolled his eyes. “This is the 21st century, wake up. Gender doesn’t matter.”

“Since when?” the brunet opposed with a frown. “Last time I checked gays couldn’t even get married.”

“Well, if you plan on proposing, then I have some bad news for you. But hey, sex is without borders,” the bartender said and put the glass back down, leaning over the counter. “You know the saying. When life gives you lemons, what would you do? You bite it like a man!”

“That’s depressing,” Thomas countered, trying to get the mental image out of his head.

“That’s reality,” the man remarked. “You just gotta deal and not whine about it.”

“Unhelpful,” Thomas commented with a sign and the bartender grinned at him.

“If you want an advice,” he straightened back up, tapping his fingers against the counter. “Be ready for anything. Maybe you’re gonna need handcuffs. If they won’t bring theirs. I heard it can get pretty kinky.”

Thomas paled and decided he was not going there even if someone had paid him.

***

Thomas had lost his mind. He didn’t really know where or how, but it had definitely happened recently. He blamed Minho and Teresa. They were the easiest targets. He cursed them to the darkest and hottest pits of hell, and then cursed himself along with them when he stepped inside the hotel, holding that stupid appointment card in his hand.

**12/3/2014**

**6 PM**

**YOTEL New York – Room No. 333**

**570 10th Avenue New York, NY, 10036**

 He didn’t even know where to begin with chiding himself. Maybe right when he had decided to go, or after getting dressed, or even later when he took the taxi and arrived to the place. He definitely hated himself the moment he talked to the receptionist though, that he was really, really going aboard with it, when he got the key and took the elevator up.

The time showed a few minutes past 6, and Thomas added it to his nervousness, or maybe to the complete freak out he got several times during the day. An image of the bartender flexing his muscles and hollering “ _Bite it like a man_!” kept on popping in his head, and it was enough of a scare off. Why did he go? What brought him here in the first place?

Was it boredom? Was it curiosity? Was it the reverse psychology thing Teresa used on him on purpose? Was it his pride that told him to defy the “predictable” label?

Or did he just want sex without getting too close? With no strings attached, no consequences, no pressing issues.

Maybe it was, Thomas thought. Maybe he really was curious about it; maybe he needed, even a little bit, to get his head out of the gutter, to just _unwind_. To show himself he could be spontaneous when he wanted to, even if it scared him to death.

He remained at the door for one whole minute, staring at the card in his hand. This was the moment of truth. The turning point, the-

“Are you going to enter or does the hallway look more appealing to you?” a male voice interrupted his line of thoughts like a guillotine and Thomas froze at the spot, almost afraid to turn around. He wasn’t sure who to expect. A huge guy who can lift the bed and then some? The voice didn’t give much away, Thomas mused.

He took a deep breath, and then another, and turned around slowly, just to be greeted with maybe a little surprising sight. There stood a young blond man with deep brown eyes, dressed in a long, black coat. He seemed very young, probably even younger than Thomas himself, and from the look of it _he_ was Thomas’ _partner_ for the night.

The blond tilted his head to the side when Thomas remained quiet and staring, and looked Thomas over, almost appraisingly.

“Hallway then?” he asked and Thomas’ brain finally caught up with him, sending a signal to his body to shook his head no, even though his voice refused to cooperate. “Alright. If you’d allow me then? Or do you want to have the honour and open up?”

“I’ll open, sorry,” Thomas blurted out, his hands shaking. This guy didn’t look like he had strange tastes, but Thomas knew the appearance could deceive a lot. He dragged the card through the lock, getting the green light and the door opened with a soft click.

It was a man. Of course it was, how many females would do this? They were too clever. Why did this one sign up for it? What had he been expecting? What was he going to want from Thomas? Once they enter, it would be already too late to back up, Thomas knew. Then the guy would show the whole collection of straps and crops and maybe even something sharp and unforgiving, and Thomas felt his body falling back into pure panic, where lemons had been thrown at him unmercifully, and he seriously didn’t feel like _biting them like a man,_ more like run and find cover. Before he could even think, he turned around again, seizing the blond with a serious look, noting the wide eyes and a pretty mouth almost smiling, until he spoke.

“Did you bring handcuffs with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by elenlith <3 Thank you so much, hun :) You're amazing :) (Link to this awesome person is here! http://archiveofourown.org/users/elenlith/pseuds/elenlith)


	2. A Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nervous I assume?”  
> “Terrified,” Thomas mumbled. There was no point in playing the brave; he felt his hands still shaking like a leaf.  
> “You don’t look like a type for this,” the blond noted.  
> “Neither do you,” Thomas countered quickly, making his companion chuckle again.  
> “Appearances,” he only shrugged and Thomas had to nod in agreement.  
> “Can be deceiving,” he added and the blond seemed he agreed as well.

Thomas had these moments when he felt like a complete idiot. They didn’t happen very often, thankfully, but when they did, it was with full force and without mercy. He remembered this one time when he thought he was being smart and accused his professor of a mistake in his lecture, making a total ass of himself in front of the whole class.

Then there was a time when he was dating this super nice girl and she wanted to surprise him with a party for his birthday, and he completely blew it with his suspicion she was getting too handsy with some other guys. She threw the cake at him in the end and stomped off.

And of course there was the time when he was asked his opinion at a job interview and he thought it was a trick question, so he played it like he didn’t care at all. And of course he didn’t get the job, because _dishonest people are not welcomed here_.

This, right now, was another example and Thomas didn’t even know how to stop the situation that unfolded so suddenly. One moment he was letting his anxiety rule him, asking for handcuffs, and right after that the blond’s jaw dropped until he suddenly burst into hysterical laughter and dragged Thomas inside the opened room, where he promptly continued to laugh so much tears were streaming down his face. Thomas was so mortified he could only sit down, staring at his companion, who couldn’t stifle his amusement, and only barely took notice of his neatly looking surroundings.

“Handcuffs!” the blond giggled again, wiping tears from his face while trying to put some seriousness into the situation (and failing). “I just can’t, my god.”

Thomas considered the possibility of the ground swallowing him, or the white sheets on the round bed he was sitting on suddenly coming to life and suffocating him, but none of those options seemed plausible, so he just tried to act invisible.

The blond was finally getting calmer, dragging his coat down his shoulders with occasional chuckles escaping him, revealing he was surprisingly casually dressed. For some reason Thomas expected a suit, probably because he gave out that vibe when Thomas first saw him, with the coat and all. But no, he had jeans and a simple black shirt, nothing fancy or complicated, and Thomas felt a bit relieved, since he came in with a hoodie and jeans as well. Not that clothes were supposed to matter, he reminded himself.

“I must disappoint you, I suppose,” the blond finally focused back on him, but the big amused smile stayed. “I’m not really into kinky stuff. No handcuffs.”

“Oh thank god,” Thomas hid his face in his palms, a huge boulder dropping from his chest, or more likely, a whole string of rolling stones rolled somewhere far away.

“Ah, first timer?” that notion made him go red in a second, and suddenly there was no place on the whole planet to hide his shame. He only managed to nod, trying not to ask how many times this person had gone through it, and focusing on his shoes instead. The silence grew grim and Thomas became restless.

Was it an issue? Well, of course it had to be an issue. If the blond was… skilled? Was it the right word? If he did this often, getting a completely inexperienced partner (who didn’t even fancy men for that matter, Thomas almost forgot, what he was even doing here in the first place?) must have disappointed him.

 It took all his courage to raise his head up to see what the man was doing, and once he did, he froze mid-move. The blond was sitting in the armchair right in front of the bed, a smirk playing on his lips while looking straight back at Thomas, one hand propping his head up, one leg thrown over the other, looking completely comfortable.

“Was wondering how long it was going to take for you to look up if I kept quiet,” he told him simply. He definitely didn’t look angry or disappointed. For what was worth, Thomas thought he looked like he was actually enjoying the situation. But that could have been only his imagination. “Nervous I assume?”

“Terrified,” Thomas mumbled. There was no point in playing brave; he felt his hands still shaking like a leaf.

“You don’t look like the type for this,” the blond noted.

“Neither do you,” Thomas countered quickly, making his companion chuckle again.

“Appearances,” he only shrugged and Thomas had to nod in agreement.

“Can be deceiving,” he added and the blond seemed he agreed as well.

“You can call me Newt, greenie,” he introduced himself, looking completely relaxed about it, and Thomas snorted at the nickname he immediately got.

“Thomas,” he returned the favour and the blond grinned.

“Just told me your real name, didn’t ya.”

At that moment it occurred to the brunet that he was probably dumber than he thought he was. Of course Newt wasn’t his real name, how hadn’t that occurred to him right the moment the blond had let it out of his mouth? _Newt._ That would be like what, maybe short for Newton? At top, but not a chance for it to be a real name.

_Logic, geez. Handy sometimes._

“Apparently,” he only piped. “Since I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” _Newt_ waved his hand, clearly even more amused than before, if that was even possible. “Thomas is a nice name. Tommy. Sounds about right.”

Thomas snickered. The last time someone had called him Tommy was maybe in the kinder garden. His father always preferred to use Thomas, since it was more “tough”, and his mother settled on “Tom”, because it was shorter and she could shout it along all the vulgarities when he messed up (again).

“So, Tommy,” Newt cocked his head to the side, watching him expectantly. “As much as I find your fidgeting adorable, our time is limited. And I don’t know about you, but I didn’t come here to chat. At least not _only_.”

Reality caught up with Thomas once more, and the gripping uneasiness returned full force. Of course he didn’t. Neither did Thomas. Probably.

But Newt was a guy.

Thomas had no idea how to handle that. At this moment he felt like he actually needed the manual for the pants removal, like the bartender had told him, because his brain had frozen like a broken record.

Another burst of laughter filled the room and Thomas blinked few times, confused.

“Your expression! You look like you are actually scared I’m going to eat you!” Newt hiccupped, trying to get the giggles under control again. “I doubt your Bambi eyes could get any bigger than that, I swear.”

“Sorry, I-,”

“Aah, shut it,” Newt grinned and stood up, actually making Thomas speechless. He was a little taller than the brunet, lankier, but held himself somewhat proudly, and radiated a strange aura of authority.

_Definitely not new to this._

“It’s not like words can change that, can they,” his voice had a bit of an unusual ting to it, an accent Thomas couldn’t immediately place, covered carefully. Maybe British? He sounded like he was used to hiding it, the slips were rare. Not that his accent was on Thomas’ priority list to know, since he suddenly had this whole person to deal with, boldly sitting on his lap, making Thomas gasp in surprise.

“Let’s play a game, shall we,” Newt suggested with a small smile. “You tell me when I hit a good spot. And I’ll make sure we both enjoy this.”

Thomas couldn’t even reply for how fast it was, he only sat there, completely rigid, with a blond guy sitting on top of him without shame, suddenly landing teasing touches here and there, and he couldn’t even think properly, nothing more than “ _shit, shit, shit, what have I done, fuck, shit, shit_ ”.

A light touch on his arm made him stiffen even more, but Newt didn’t stop, his hands travelled to the zipper of Thomas’ hoodie, dragging it down and revealing the grey t-shirt underneath. He mapped the fabric of the garment, then hooked his fingers along the hem of the hoodie and pulled it slowly off Thomas’ shoulders.

Thomas didn’t even know why he cooperated; his first instinct was _run, wrong, not as it should be, not how it always goes_ , before he tried to stifle it, to calm himself down. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it. What he had come for. Why he had actually taken the card and tried it. To break out of his comfort zone and try something new. Somehow. Stop being predictable.

“Man, you are like a statue, loosen up a little,” Newt chuckled, his voice a little deeper than before. It sounded… pleasant, Thomas decided. Newt’s fingers made contact with the bare skin of his arm, electing goose bumps immediately. The touch was feather-like, not insistent or demanding, but still palpable and there. The other hand slowly travelled along Thomas’ chest to his neck, curling around his nape, caressing just under the hairline.

“Good?” he asked and Thomas swallowed loudly and nodded. Nothing bad. It felt nice. Probably. It would feel nice. If he actually weren’t feeling so sick and nervous.

The fingers slid down a little, travelling to his collarbones.

“Still good?” Newt asked and Thomas hummed.

“Good,” he managed to croak out, and Newt leaned a bit more forward, suddenly dragging his teeth over the pulse point on Thomas’ neck. The touch was so unexpected Thomas’ brain had a hard time to catch up with his mouth, and a groan escaped his lips without shame.

“I gather this was good as well?” Newt chuckled and re-seated a little. “Since you are already pitching a tent.”

“I-what?”

One look south and Thomas felt his face heating up. Seriously? He was hard just because of that little thing? With a complete stranger on his lap, smiling smugly at him? What was wrong with him?

“Something I can work with,” Newt winked at him, the smug bastard, and returned his attention to Thomas’ neck, biting it lightly.

It felt strange. Different. A little wrong, maybe. Thomas wasn’t sure. His body reacted, heating up very fast, but his mind struggled with the concept, trying to hold back his limbs, tightening his throat to prevent any noises to come out, and Thomas felt conflicted and shaky.

The touches were light, but somewhat exactly at the right place, the right angle. The teasing amount of pleasure and mischievousness was something Thomas wasn’t used to, not at all. It was him who led every time, after all. Him, who initiated kisses or touches. Him, who was always aiming to please, not to be pleased – for some reason that policy had stayed with him his whole life. But Newt wasn’t a lady; he wasn’t a girl that needed to be pampered. He wanted to move it further right that moment, without knowing who Thomas really was, without caring about the small useless stuff.

It was sex, Thomas mused.

Sex was easy. Sex should have been easy. It was natural.

“Never been with a guy either, I take it?” the blond’s voice pierced his thoughts unmercifully and suddenly he was pressed closer to Thomas, chest to chest, groin to groin, and Thomas’ breath hitched in his throat when he felt a similar state in the other man’s pants.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his chest raising and falling rapidly, and Newt smirked, running his fingers through Thomas’ hair. It felt nice.

“Only if you’re up to it,” he offered, his face softening a little. “Not really keen on having an unwilling participant. Ruins the mood.”

Was Thomas up to it? Letting himself go with a guy? A random stranger?

“It’s just sex,” Newt whispered into his ear, his voice bordering on obscene, along with a small nibble to Thomas’ ear. “No rocket science. Just relax.”

That was the point, right? To unwind. That was why Minho and Teresa had given him the card. That was why they had made him come here. To meet this man. To forget who he was for a while. Maybe also to throw away his morals, for one night. Was it difficult? It wasn’t, right? Newt was there, he was warm and willing, and it was probably the mysterious something Thomas so desperately needed.

“I can do that,” he said, even though his voice trembled slightly.

“Good boy,” Newt smiled and his hands slid lower, towards Thomas’ belt.

Thomas had completely lost his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by the awesome elenlith! (http://archiveofourown.org/users/elenlith/pseuds/elenlith) Thank you so much, hun! <3
> 
> Phew. And here I thought this whole thing with them in the suit would take only one chapter. Ha-ha. I just suck with keeping stuff short, oh my god. Sorry for dragging it so much! It has a mind of its own, I swear. Or my hands have.
> 
> Anyway! Hope you liked it! <3 The next chapter is prolly gonna be a lil smutty, sorry in advance! (If Thomas won't decide he doesn't want to after all)  
> Thank you all for reading! You are amazing! <3


	3. A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas forgot who he was. He forgot this hadn’t been his style. He didn’t want to know the old Thomas at that moment; he couldn’t get enough of the current situation, the constant flood of pleasure and zero responsibility, only taking what he wanted, with a person who thought the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny bit of M. I think nothing is explicit, so maybe not M at all.

Thomas wasn’t a virgin. He definitely didn’t represent a blushing maiden; he knew how the human body worked. He knew how the blood pumped, how hazed his mind always became when he got excited, how difficult it was to put some distance and keep the rational thoughts flowing, especially when he was really, really into the girl he made love to.

It was different now.

Newt was different. Thomas never lost himself so completely, so thoroughly. Insecurity and hesitation vanished right the moment Newt got a green light; suddenly there was no place for being unsure. It swept him along like a tidal wave, with Newt’s touches burning through his clothes, and then searing his bare skin where his shirt had ridden up, and Thomas let him. He let himself being pushed back on the bed, lying down with the blond devil above him, and his brain turned off, not questioning, only tagging along. He was surprised at how easily he could get himself out of his comfort zone, suddenly being absolutely silent, not saying anything against pulling Newt’s shirt over his head and touching the skin curiously, electing an appreciative hum for it.

“The game still on?” he asked breathlessly when Newt got rid of his shirt as well, his hands roaming around Thomas’ bare shoulders and sliding towards his waist, watching him carefully, as if he was analysing the reactions.

“The good/bad game?” the blond replied with a question and dipped his head down, licking a stripe of Thomas’ stomach like a curious kitten. Thomas didn’t even try to stop the moan that fought out of his throat.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a hitch in his breath, and Newt chuckled.

“Of course,” he tugged at the opened belt and with one long move freed it from the confinements of belt loops. He stopped when Thomas’ hands found their way up his waist, resting on his hips.

“Good?” the brunet asked peculiarly and it made Newt smirk.

“Good, Tommy,” he assured him and returned to his previous actions, which continued with the attempt to get rid of Thomas’ jeans completely. “Raise your hips.”

Thomas’ mind panicked a little, but his body did it without hesitation, a traitorous drive that sensed a promised activity, successfully overriding the brain’s commands. The pants were down in one swift movement, along with his boxers, and Thomas felt like he was under a thousand reflectors, being pushed into an intense scrutiny when Newt watched him quietly.

“You sure this is your first time with a guy?” the question came without warning and Thomas had an urge to crawl away and bury himself somewhere. “Cuz… wow, you are like… super ready?”

“Please don’t talk,” the brunet pleaded desperately (he was painfully hard, he was aware, but it wasn’t in his power to change it, it just… happened). “I just…”

“There is _nothing_ wrong, I’m flattered,” Newt looked back up, his eyes dark. “Just surprised. Was expecting you’d be… how to say it delicately…”

“Harder to get?” Thomas supplied, trying not to squirm under the weight.

“You’re hard enough,” Newt grinned and _touched_ , and Thomas hadn’t been expecting that, and it shot right through him like a bolt from a clear sky, leaving him panting and tense.

“Wow,” Newt’s voice sounded a little awed. “We’re going to have _so much fun_ , mate.”

Thomas didn’t doubt that.

***

 _Fun_ didn’t cover it. Not enough. Thomas could have sworn he forgot his own name during the process; he was so blissed out he couldn’t say who he was anymore. If anyone had told him before this day he would be _eager_ to touch another guy the way he touched Newt, he wouldn’t have believed it. Maybe he’d have even got angry for the simple suggestion of him wanting to get it off with another man.

And yet here he was. Panting above this stranger, his fingers raking through his blond hair, memorizing every curve and every reaction he got, tasting the salt on the skin while promptly sucking on every possible place he could reach, and Newt was gasping under him deliciously, urging him closer and faster, and more, like an insatiable spirit of seduction.

Thomas forgot who he was. He forgot this wasn’t his style. He didn’t want to know the old Thomas in that moment; he couldn’t get enough of the current situation, the constant flood of pleasure and zero responsibility, only taking what he wanted, with a person who thought the same.

He had no idea how many times, or for how long they had been at it for that matter, making a mess of the white sheets and leaving the room smelling like sex. The only thing Thomas knew for sure was he didn’t want it to end any time soon.

Newt was leading him through it with ease, and yet letting him work for it. Shame didn’t have a place in there, Thomas realized. The bullshit that he didn’t know how to handle a guy got stomped to the ground right the moment Newt pressed against him, hot and needy, and whispered to his ear a simple truth: “We are both guys. What’s there you don’t know? What feels good for you has a high probability it’s gonna feel good for me too.”

And he was right. There wasn’t a single thing Thomas did that hadn’t already felt familiar.

Well, except the prostate.

***

“Gordon Ramsey.”

“No waaaaay.”

“What? He is brilliant!”

Newt’s laughter filled the room to the brim and Thomas snickered along with him, lying comfortably on the bed with his chin propped up and looking out of the balcony through the closed door. Newt was lying atop of him, or sprawling to describe it better, drawing abstract shapes on Thomas’ back.

“I can’t believe you like Gordon Ramsey, you are such a dork,” the blond chuckled above him, his fingers abandoning Thomas’ shoulder blades and reaching his hair, pulling slightly. Thomas felt shivers traveling down his spine, and it was amazing, pleasant and warm, and if he hadn’t been so tired, he would have probably flipped them both around and proven that even dorks could get serious. But his body refused to cooperate, and he felt too comfortable to move, so he only hummed in appreciation.

“Good?” he heard Newt whisper and it made him smile.

“Excellent.”

“You did great by the way,” the blond pulled at one strand. “Was fun.”

“Mhhm.”

“For a straight guy at least,” Newt added with a snicker and that was it. Thomas gathered the last ounce of strength he had left and Newt only yelped in response, until it morphed into delighted laugh.

He never backed up from a challenge after all.

Not the new Thomas at least.

***

There was no alarm. No banging noises. No voices. Just a blissful silence. And it was also probably what made Thomas wake up, feeling disoriented and stupefied, blinking owlishly at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Where was he?

This wasn’t his flat. Nor Minho’s. Or Teresa’s. Or his ex’s for that matter.

The heavy scent of sex lingered in the air like a curtain and it kicked Thomas awake in a second.

A hotel. Him, naked, in a round bed, with crumbled sheets around his body. The silence filling the room to the brink.

“Newt?” the first word that came out of his mouth made him cringe internally when he got zero response. The apartment was too quiet. He was alone in there.

Of course he was.

The clock on the wall showed 10 AM and Thomas sighed deeply. He had spent the night in a hotel, making love to a blond devil, and all his consciousness could come up with was _: I wish it had lasted longer._

He groaned and fell back on the bed, staring dumbly at the ceiling. He knew one thing for sure – Minho was right at some point. It had been great sex. It had made him let out lots of steam, relax his mind, and definitely _forget_ about his ex-girlfriend, who couldn’t even _compete_ in the sex field with this new guy. It was like all the sex he had experienced until now was just an awkward exchange of body fluids, nothing this thorough and pleasant.

Was it because it was a guy? Did gay sex hold some kind of secret that made it better than straight one? (His mind screamed _prostate!_ very loudly, and he hadn’t even been at the receiving end during the night. It had just been an experiment, a mischievous gleam in Newt’s eyes that had made him shrug and say fine, and then gasp and squirm and curse and bless for several minutes.)

He doubted it. Was it Newt then? Thomas didn’t know a single thing about him, not really. He knew he didn’t really like Gordon Ramsey. Or did he? He actually hadn’t said anything negative, just disbelieving. Like he hadn’t explicitly said Terminator was a bad movie or papaya his favourite fruit. He had hinted, but never confirmed. He had kept Thomas in a strange game of words and feelings, new experiences and wider horizons.

They also hadn’t kissed. For the whole night, they hadn’t made that contact, even though Thomas’ whole body was otherwise covered in red marks. Was it some kind of rule? With a kiss being too… intimate? Not that sex wasn’t.

“I hope I’m Edward and he’s Vivienne,” Thomas mumbled and finally dragged himself out of the bed. He desperately needed a shower and he had to get back home. Even though it felt strange, as if leaving this place was going to close more than just a hotel door.

He almost tripped over his jeans lying haphazardly on the ground, but it made him at least notice the piece of paper resting on the bed table. He scrambled for the note, reading it several times in his head and then aloud, just because he could.

“ _Good job, greenie. Congratulations on your debut! N._ ”

The writing was surprisingly neat and Thomas read it five times before he was satisfied. He couldn’t help but wonder who this man was. It left a strange pang of longing in his chest, and it made him angry at himself.

This night had been great and it had opened Thomas’ eyes. He felt like he had become different, better, less attached, bolder. But no. It hadn’t really changed a thing about his personality, had it. It had just made him pining after a different person, and only more pathetically on top of that – pining after a guy he didn’t know a thing about, a stranger who was having one night stands probably too often for Thomas to be comfortable, whose name definitely wasn’t _Newt_ , but who had a cute smile and insatiable sex drive.

And who Thomas wasn’t probably going to see ever again.

“Fuck my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by the awesome elenlith! (Link to her here: http://archiveofourown.org/users/elenlith/pseuds/elenlith) <3
> 
> Yay, I made it! xD I thought I won't be able to finish it today, haha :D Anyway! Yeah, so this is it :D Sorry for the sappiness and all the yada-yada moments, but I, personally, like this Newt, lol (yay for the self praise xD).  
> Anyway! I hope you liked it, or at least you can forgive me to get it smutty right at the beginning (or not enough smutty, depends).
> 
> The song for this chapter is this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QliYCrO_Mcw
> 
> Thank you for reading! You are amazing! <3


	4. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told you to go,” Minho interrupted his thoughts with an exasperated sigh. “Blow some steam, forget about the bitch, and get sweaty. But nooo. You just had to keep the appearances, huh. And because of who? Me and Teresa were the only ones that knew about it, and man, we already lost our good opinions on you anyway. You had nothing to lose.”  
> “Hmm,” Thomas only hummed, turning off the stove. He didn’t even want to talk about it. Let Minho believe he stayed predictable, it was for the best. All those stupid questions that could have followed-  
> “Oh my god, you went there.”

Minho had always had the best timing when to come over, Thomas had to admit. As if he had a camera in Thomas’ flat or some kind of radar that told him when Thomas was making food, or ordering take outs, and he always appeared like a ninja he was, grinning at him cheekily, and from time to time even bringing something good to drink, or cool to watch.

Today he came in with vodka for some reason, not really a drink either of them fancied, but Thomas didn’t really complain. He let him in, passed the comment: “ _What a coincidence you are cooking just when I arrived!_ ” without visible reaction and took out glasses for the drink.

“God, you’re even more mopey than usual,” Minho noted when he sat down, eying the brunet suspiciously. Thomas had to agree with him – his mind couldn’t give the night before a rest. He kept on replaying it in his head, still seeing with perfect clarity all the expressions Newt did, recalling the warmth and how the skin felt under his palms, the echo of moans still alive in his ears. And it made him edgy and unsated, and definitely in a worse mood than before.

He just couldn’t do things casually. Not important stuff like this – taking someone intimately and then forgetting about it. Definitely not after how good and _right_ it felt, guy or not. He _wanted_ to know who Newt was, and he _craved_ to see him again, preferably soon and he didn’t even need to be naked. At least not right the moment. Just to see him again, and get to know him, maybe work a bit on understanding and… something. Thomas didn’t even know what. It was stupid anyway.

“I told you to go,” Minho interrupted his thoughts with an exasperated sigh. “Blow some steam, forget about the bitch, and get sweaty. But nooo. You just had to keep the appearances, huh. And because of who? Me and Teresa were the only ones that knew about it, and man, we already lost our good opinions on you anyway. You had nothing to lose.”

“Hmm,” Thomas only hummed, turning off the stove. He didn’t even want to talk about it. Let Minho believe he stayed predictable, it was for the best. All those stupid questions that could have followed-

“Oh my god, you went there.”

Thomas froze at the notion and suddenly Minho was next to him, pulling at his collar, revealing all the viciously red hickeys.

“Holy cow, you did it!”

“Minho-,”

“I just… fuck, you so did it, I can’t believe it! And I brought just stupid vodka, I’m such an idiot! We need champagne or something, let me just get my keys-,”

“Minho!” Thomas raised his voice threateningly and that worked, because the Korean finally shut up, even though his shiny eyes and awed expression stayed. “There is _nothing_ to celebrate, alright? Now sit your ass down.”

“Wait, was it that bad?” Minho’s face fell a little, but he did what he was told and sat back down at the table. “Since man, your neck looks like you were under a vicious attack of mosquitos or something.”

“It was fine,” Thomas mumbled, and attempted to cover the hickeys without much avail. There were seriously so many of them, when he first saw it he thought Newt did it on purpose, like revenge or something.

“ _Fine_?” the Korean repeated incredulously. “My breakfast today was _fine_. I had scrambled eggs and a toast. But you got sexed up and bitten from a wild animal; I don’t believe _fine_ covers it.”

Of course he didn’t believe it. Because Minho was Minho, and he never gave a mystery a rest until he solved it, and picking up clues was his hobby.

“Great,” Thomas gave in. “It was great. Amazing. Hot. Happy?”

“No, you look bummed out,” Minho frowned a little “If it was so good, why do you look like the world ended? You got her prego?”

“Are you an idiot?” Thomas snarled at him and Minho only raised his hands in surrender.

“Just trying to find the cause, is all,” he assured him. “So. You had sex, she liked anal suspiciously lot, and in the end you found out it was a guy in disguise?”

Thomas rolled his eyes so hard they almost stayed at the back of his skull.

“It _was_ a guy,” he decided to spill it. Minho would find out sooner or later anyway. “That’s really not an issue.”

“No fucking way,” the Asian’s jaw dropped. “Noooooo way. You! With a guy! No. I don’t believe it.”

“What? Why?” the brunet stopped putting food on plates with raised eyebrows and glanced back at Minho.

“You’re straight as an arrow,” Minho pointed out. “You are straighter than James Bond or Indiana Jones. You are the beacon of straightness! Straighter than-,”

“Alright, I got the picture, shut up,” Thomas growled menacingly and Minho shook his head.

“A guy,” the Asian repeated, disbelieving.

“Yes.”

“No way you’d stay and have sex with a guy,” the doubtful tone made Thomas frown even more. “Just impossible.”

“Just because I never fancied you doesn’t mean I’m a homophobic idiot, alright?” Thomas grumbled, almost throwing the plate in front of his friend.

“That’s one way to put it,” Minho shrugged. “Although not fancying me is enough of a sin already.”

“Just stuff it,” Thomas bit out and Minho chuckled.

“I see now,” he said calmly and Thomas knew his posture just cracked and Minho saw right through him. As he always did.

“So. You came in, saw a guy. Didn’t freak out, had sex. It was great. Now you’re back home and you look like you want to murder somebody. So either… you’re regretting it - but I doubt that, since you got so heated up about not being a homophobic idiot. Or you fancy the guy. After one night. And now you are moping not after that stupid bitch, but after a one night stand date.”

Thomas stayed silent long enough to confirm Minho’s suspicion, he was aware, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, until his friend gave out a sigh.

“Just say it,” he urged the Asian quietly.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Yeah,” he agreed on that. He so was. He didn’t need to deny it to feel better, and lying to himself was always easier than to Minho.

“So what was so great about the guy that you are pining after him already?” Minho crossed his arms on his chest, watching Thomas expectantly. Thomas wasn’t very happy to share those things, but knowing Minho he would dig it out of him anyway, sooner or later. He thought about it for a while, trying to find the right words, but found out all those feelings and small things were difficult to put into a comprehensible explanation.

“I… am not sure. He was…” he stopped lamely, gnawing on his lower lip. Minho kept his posture on, waiting. “Hot. And funny. And actually very attractive.”

“Good looking guy with sense of humour,” Minho concluded. “Wow, aren’t you easily swayed. How come I stayed out of your field of interest amaze me.”

“I’m not-,” Thomas tried to protest, but one stern look from his companion stopped him from complaining further. “It’s not like I’m _in love_.”

“That would be super pathetic,” Minho said. “Look, bud, you’re a great guy, but we’ve got you this one night stand thing so you could clear your head, not for you to fall into another trap.”

“It’s fine,” the brunet tried to sound reassuring. “It’s not like I’m going to see him again.”

“It’s not like it matters,” Minho finally let go of his judge-like posture and started eating. “You just need to learn how to not get things to you so easily. Not just that you feel bad, but we have to put up with you as well. Have mercy.”

“Oh poor you,” Thomas gave him an evil eye, but Minho just shrugged it off, leaving Thomas be. It was probably for the best.

***

The collar of Thomas’ shirt covered the hickeys nicely, because, apparently, Newt had a very good idea how it looks when you have to wear a suit and your neck looks like that. So he could pretend nothing happened, and only hoped Minho hadn’t told Teresa about it, because he would never live it down otherwise.

He couldn’t read anything from her expression when he met her at the elevator at work, and Minho looked even more enigmatic, which wasn’t the best sign. He kept quiet for most of the ride until it got unbearable and he asked what was going on.

“She’s just nervous,” Minho said instead, because she only grumbled something. “About the new partner company we’re going to deal with today.”

“Oh?” Thomas blinked in surprise. He hadn’t heard about it. But truth to be told he was out of most of those things in past two weeks, so it didn’t shock him that much.

“The lawyer should come around 9 AM,” she finally spoke up. “I heard he is pretty tough with those things. If he’s going to put on some impossible demands, I may punch him.”

“Ah, that time of the month?” Thomas couldn’t stop the remark and her glare almost killed him instantly.

“How about you shut up and go find some other guy to fuck?” she hissed and Thomas snorted.

“Precious,” he glanced at the Minho who still looked like he swallowed all the secrets in the world, and let it go, just to be safe. Dealing with her in the morning was difficult enough; he didn’t need to get decapitated before he even got to his office.

***

When Teresa appeared in the doorway 10 minutes before 9, he went after her without a single word. She looked a little pale, which was a bit unusual. Teresa was never afraid, she ate lawyers for breakfast, but her sudden change of attitude bothered him. He couldn’t imagine what could have been so bad about the new partner company, or the lawyer himself, that it made her so uneasy.

“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously when they arrived to the meeting room and she sat down and started to go through the papers she brought with her. Her movements were jerky and uncoordinated.

“Fine,” she uttered.

“Nervous?”

“What do you think?” she shot him a glare.

“That you’ll scare him off with this attitude,” he rolled his eyes. “What’s eating ya?”

“All those things I read about him,” she frowned. “All those companies he trashed, all the successes he had with it, all the people that trust him, which leads to all the fucking connections he has. That’s what’s eating me. Enough of your concern?”

“God, you’re pissy,” he sat down as well, ignoring her evil eyes. “”Calm down. He’s not here because they sued us. They want to work with us, that’s a plus point. He’s definitely not going to trash us when they want to cooperate.”

“You never know,” she mumbled, and shut up completely when the door opened, letting Minho in.

“He’s outside,” he told them with a serious face. “Ready, gal?”

“Yeah, let him in,” she nodded and took a deep breath. Thomas thought it’s ridiculous, but stayed quiet and only buttoned up his jacket and stood up. Minho nodded and disappeared again, just to reappear few seconds later with another person walking behind him.

At that moment all the blood that pumped in Thomas’ veins turned to ice and all he could do was to _stare and stare and stare_.

It was Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad so far, sorry!
> 
> Minho is so rad :D No time for Thomas' moping, haha :D Tough love, but I guess it works :D  
> Thank you all for reading! Sorry for the delay, I've decided to work hard during weekdays, but don't write on weekends, if that's okay with you? :)
> 
> Ily all! <3


	5. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to work for us?” Teresa shot out, her tone sharp and little disbelieving, and it made Newt blink.   
> “Yes?” he tried lightly. “Is that a problem?”  
> “It’s definitely not,” Minho cut in just in time when Teresa drew a breath. “She’s just a big fan of yours.”  
> “That’s… flattering?” he managed, pushing the signed contract further from him.   
> “Definitely a fan,” she gritted her teeth. “Of your shark-like techniques. Amazing blood-sensing skill.”

Thomas was grateful Minho did the introduction. He couldn’t stammer a reply, or just his name, even if his life was depending on it. All he could do was trying to stop the sudden ringing in his ears while staring at the blond man in a black, nicely fitting suit with rolled up sleeves that was shaking hands with Minho, and then Teresa (who got even more rigid). After that, when _finally_ their eyes met, Thomas felt like exploding. But if Newt recognized him, he didn’t let it on. His hand shake had a firm, confident grip (the same he used on Thomas, and that was not, really, really not something he should have been thinking about right now), and he looked right into Thomas eyes while greeting him - a proud, yet absolutely disarming posture.

Thomas heard Minho saying something, but couldn’t make out the words, and immediately felt at loss when Newt’s hand let go.

“Call me Isaac,” Newt turned back to Minho as if answering some of his inquiry. “I’m sure keeping this friendly is for both of our benefits, since we’re partners now.”

“I usually take the person for dinner first before jumping into such commitment,” Minho smirked, and Newt, _Isaac_ , Thomas reminded himself, chuckled at that.

“I’m not big on dating,” he offered as a reply and Thomas wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. He was glad his body started working on sensible reflexes, sitting down when others did, and forced himself to stare at his hands instead, shaking a little.

This was unreal. Absolutely impossible. Of all people, in the whole New York, it had to be Newt. Or Isaac. Sitting in their office, talking calmly with Minho and Teresa about the contract, pointing out important bits as if Thomas wasn’t even there with them.

Well, he almost wasn’t. Did _Isaac_ even remember him? Or was he just another forgettable face and experience, a notch to his bedpost? There was no reaction. Seriously, a zero notion that he recognized him, something that should give him at least the smallest stop if nothing else. But  nothing came, he was absolutely in control. Not like Thomas, a shivering mess of feelings, not daring to even speak, let alone look at him.

“With all this you also got me,” _Newt_ ’s voice pierced his hazed brain again and he looked up sharply, finding him signing the contract with a confident movement of his hand. “Since the merging is pretty big, it’s only fair you got our share of our law support as well.”

“You’re going to work for _us_?” Teresa shot out, her tone sharp and little disbelieving, and it made Newt blink.

“Yes?” he tried lightly. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s definitely not,” Minho cut in just in time when Teresa drew a breath. “She’s just a big fan of yours.”

“That’s… flattering?” he managed, pushing the signed contract further from him.

“Definitely a fan,” she gritted her teeth. “Of your shark-like techniques. Amazing blood-sensing skill.”

“You need to be in control,” he retorted calmly. “And seize every opportunity the opponent presents, I believe you agree?”

“Naturally,” she uttered and Thomas was pretty sure he hadn’t been the only one who translated it as _fuck you_.

_Newt_ tilted his head to the side, watching her through half-lidded eyes, and then smiled. Thomas wasn’t sure what had been hiding behind that expression, but he doubted it was very friendly.

“At any rate, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the blond returned his focus to Minho, probably the only person in the whole room who could keep up with him on a normal level, without threatening glares or fidgeting avoidance. “I’ll present this to the Maze and get back to you later. Hopefully with better acceptance.”

Thomas was grateful that Teresa stayed quiet.

***

“He’s even worse personally, oh my god, what a fucking jerk!”

Thomas stopped at the door to Teresa’s office with raised eyebrows, even though he knew very well who she was talking about. “ _Hopefully with better acceptance_ , what a load of crap!”

“Well, you were nasty, why are you so surprised he doesn’t like you in return?” Minho’s voice.

“Stop defending him,” she hissed and that was Thomas’ cue to enter. He gave her a cold stare, but she only _hmped_ and got back to the pile of papers on her table. Minho was sitting at the edge of her desk, reading the contract with furrowed brows, and only nodded towards Thomas.

“Tom doesn’t like him either,” she uttered. “He hadn’t spoken the whole meeting. No wonder.”

“Geez, why don’t _you_ like him then?” Minho glanced at Thomas with a sigh and the brunet snorted.

“Who said I don’t like him?”

“I do,” Teresa said resolutely. “I could see it on you. You were like… _nopenopenope_ the whole meeting.”

“That wasn’t-,” he stopped himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have _nothing_ against the guy, alright?”

“I’d like you to hold your horses, Tes,” Minho put down the contract and gave her a serious look. “He’s important. So try not to antagonize him, would you kindly.”

She didn’t react and Minho shook his head in defeat. Thomas wondered how worse the situation could get and immediately regretted the thought.

***

_Isaac_ returned in the afternoon and disappeared to the CO’s office. Thomas tried not to think about it, but his mind wandered anyway, and he found himself that after an hour he didn’t do any work, except stupid doodles on the piece of paper (that was actually a former letter from a client).

He gave up after another set of unsuccessful tries and left the office, deciding that bothering Minho (or better letting Minho bother him) sounded better. He was relieved that Minho indulged him, even though their talk inevitably gravitated towards their new lawyer, and the company itself.

“Maze is pretty big,” Minho pointed out while going through pile of papers on his table. “But hey, watch this!”

He pulled out a piece of paper with several logos on it, and Thomas’ eyes latched at the first he saw.

“The Maze Runner?” he read it out loud and his friend grinned from ear to ear.

“Cool, right? Since – they are The Maze. We are The Runner. Tadah! The Maze Runner. God, sometimes I’m surprising even myself. Genial, right?”

“Sounds like a tacky novel,” Thomas snorted, looking at other variants. They weren’t as strong as the first one though.

“You sound like a tacky novel,” Minho sneered and took the paper back. “I think it’s brilliant. Isaac likes it too, so hah.”

“He does?” Thomas blinked in surprise, hating how quickly he picked up the mention of his name.

“Sure he does,” the Asian looked proud of himself, like a kid that made a gift for his parents all by itself. “He presented it to the Maze and I don’t want to sound too confident, but I think we have a winneeer. Me, of course.”

“Had there been any opponents?” Thomas smirked at the man and Minho only shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure there had been some, yeah. But this is perf, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. It is,” Thomas offered a smile and it was apparently enough for Minho to feel at ease. “Sooo. Isaac is gonna work with us?”

“Sure he is,” Minho agreed absentmindedly while going through something on his notebook. “Teresa isn’t happy, but you know her. She’ll come around.”

“What’s wrong with her today anyway?” the brunet sighed at the memory of her being terribly rude towards their new lawyer and Minho only hummed thoughtfully.

“You know her. She got that first impression from all the vids and protocols, and now she thinks he’s some big evil wolf that’s gonna eat the grandma,” he waved his hand. “And once she gets into first set of thoughts, it’s difficult to let her see another angle. Guess Isaac has to work for it with her. If he even wants to.”

“Who knows,” Thomas mumbled. “What he wants.”

“Yeah, he’s sort of vague, right?” the Korean send Thomas a little smile. “I mean, I’m not a pro, but I usually judge people from the first meeting pretty accurately. But with him, hell, who knows?”

“Couldn’t make up anything?” that caught Thomas’ interest quickly. It was basically Minho’s speciality, being able to analyse people from the first word they got out of their mouths, from their posture or the whole body language. Hearing him saying he _wasn’t sure_ made Thomas interested.

“I can say he’s professional, which is good. But other than that… he holds himself up and proud. Always in control. It’s… a little unnerving? As if he doesn’t really have any emotions to spare. Or something. Always carefully measured – I mean, he acts friendly, but it has some strange coldness to it. Did you notice?”

Thomas only shrugged. For him this guy had a different side as well. Something he didn’t want Minho to know as long as he could keep it from him. _Newt_ was funny, hot and knew what he wanted. He was efficient and when he smiled it made him too cute for words (Thomas internally groaned at that – thinking of a guy like that was something he wasn’t used to. Girls were _cute_. Guys were not. But he couldn’t help himself – the smile made him also child-like and literally _adorable_ ). _Isaac_ was in control, professional and yes, a little cold with his unattached attitude. He kept the talk friendly, but definitely held himself from reaching deeper. There were similar traits, but at first Thomas felt like dealing with two different people.

“Anyway,” Minho cleared his throat, returning to his notebook. “I’m leaving at 3 today. You?”

“Staying a bit longer,” Thomas said with a sigh. “I haven’t done shit since the morning. Need to catch up.”

“How diligent,” Minho smirked and Thomas flipped him off, earning a laugh in return.

***

Staying late at work wasn’t something Thomas was keen on. But if he wanted to be completely honest with himself, he stayed because he _knew_ Isaac was still there. The probability of them meeting randomly wasn’t as high as he wanted, but still there.

He worked until the clock showed 5 PM, and the most of the offices were dark already. He didn’t catch a sign of their new lawyer for the rest of the day, and since the CO went home already too, Thomas decided it was the best time to give up.

He took all his things, keys and a jacket and left his office with a pang of disappointment bubbling inside of him.

Was it possible _Newt_ hadn’t recognized him? Or he had, but decided not to say anything? At the other hand, why would he say, right?

_Oh hi, you are the guy I fucked on Saturday, right?_

Thomas had to admit it had its logic. But there was no reaction, at all. Just nothing, not even a blink, a smile, a sudden stop. Could it be he was doing it all the time the faces just lost their originality? That he always just shrugged it off and forgot who he slept with?

It probably held a lot lesser meaning to him than it did to Thomas. He didn’t even doubt that. He seemed skilled and pretty used to it. It made Thomas a little discouraged, but still. What were the odds, right? Two random guys meeting, and then suddenly working together? It had to mean something. He just didn’t know what.

He was almost at the main entrance, lost in thoughts, when the other elevator dinged and the door slid open, revealing the person Thomas wanted to see the whole day.

A chance after chance, if first was an incident; the second the coincidence, what was the third? A pattern? Did they just fell into a strange repeating cycle of chance encounters? Thomas felt his heart in his throat right the moment he saw the blond, and it was the first time _Isaac_ actually stopped in his tracks when he noticed Thomas standing there.

“Well, hello again,” the blond was the first who broke the silence. It echoed the empty hallway and Thomas’ stomach clenched in anticipation. “Fancy meeting you here this late.”

“Is it?” Thomas croaked out, his heart speeding up. It was late, yes. Later than a normal shift would take.

“What are the odds, eh?” Isaacsmiled a little and it sent a wave of reassurance through Thomas’ body.

“Quite small actually,” the brunet fidgeted and the blond lawyer smirked. “I thought you didn’t…”

“Didn’t?”

“Recognize me?” Thomas felt super stupid when he let that out, but it was too late anyway. _Isaac_ chuckled and took a step several steps closer, until they were at the arm’s reach.

“Trust me, I tried,” he confessed with a shrug, keeping the safe distance. “But it’s pretty hard to forget that Bambi eyes of yours, Tommy.”

The nickname he gave him resonated like a long-lost melody inside of Thomas. He had to take a deep breath to calm down, his heart going overdrive now.

“Give me a tour maybe?” _Isaac_ , no, _Newt_ , asked with a small smile. “If you don’t mind. I didn’t have much time to look around.”

Thomas nodded quickly, maybe too eager and it made the blond laugh a little, but at that moment Thomas didn’t care.

_A pattern_ , he thought. _Must be it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad so far, sorry!
> 
> I hope, I hope, I hooooooope I haven't disappointed with this chapter. It surprised me how much anticipation it went along with it, how you were curious how it unfolds. God, I am sooooo anxious now QQ Please let it be alright QQ
> 
> Anyway! Teresa has issues, Thomas is maybe freaking out a bit, Minho is a smug bastard (but we love him for it, nyah) and Newt. Yeah, who knows what Newt is thinking, eh?
> 
> Tell me what do you think! Is it alright? QQ
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting, I'm awed by the reception, you have no idea. It's amazing! Ily all! <3


	6. A Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m a perfectionist,” he admitted. “Meaning… I don’t trust anyone but myself in those matters. Call it a kink if you like.”  
> “I’d rather not call it that,” Thomas sighed and rather looked away, staring down the main hall. “But I get your point.”

“The whole second floor is basically an accounting wing. You won’t meet any lawyer there, only if he thinks staring at short skirts is better than his work.”

“Dull,” Newt said while looking through the glass of the elevator at the floor they were slowly passing. “Accountants are scary.”

“All math,” Thomas smiled.

“Math and money, never the best combination,” the blond averted his eyes from the view and focused on Thomas instead. “But you’re not a lawyer, are you?”

“Nope,” Thomas shrugged, trying very hard to ignore the proximity they shared. Newt seemed unaffected, but Thomas had that weird teenager-driven sub consciousness that reminded him how Newt looked naked every moment it could. It made concentrating fairly difficult. “I’m something like… Minho’s and Teresa’s personal assistant.”

“Oh?” Newt raised an eyebrow.

“I know it sounds…” Thomas searched for the right word and then smirked: “ _Dull_.”

“Nah,” the blond shrugged. “Helpful. Having a person who can give you pointers is pretty useful when you have tons of work and can’t catch a break. Sometimes I’d kill for one.”

“So why don’t you get one? You gotta be super busy with The Maze being so huge and all,” Thomas noted with honest curiosity and Newt chuckled.

“I’m a perfectionist,” he admitted. “Meaning… I don’t trust anyone but myself in those matters. Call it a kink if you like.”

“I’d rather not call it that,” Thomas sighed and rather looked away, staring down the main hall. “But I get your point.”

“Working with the chick must be hell at times, right?” Newt changed topics with a smirk, but before Thomas could answer the elevator stopped in the highest floor and they both exited the cabin.

“Teresa you mean?” he made sure and Newt nodded without a word.

“She is… alright, I guess?” he thought about making it nicer, but with her behaviour today it sure was hard to make Newt believe in the opposite. “Just distrustful.”

“Well, it’s flattering my reputation precedes me, I guess,” the blond responded thoughtfully. “I’m not _that_ bad though. A shark, how nice.”

Thomas only nodded in agreement, but remained quiet. He couldn’t say if he was _a shark_ when working, but he definitely was fierce in bed. Or maybe intense better, Thomas wasn’t sure how to name it properly without recalling all the still vivid details in his head.

“Focus, Tommy,” Newt’s voice pierced his thoughts like an arrow and he returned back to the present, a little confused, with the blond smirking at him from the doors, several meters away. “Not really at your best today I gather?”

“Distracted, sorry,” Thomas mumbled while closing the gap between them, his nervousness getting stronger again.

“Am _I_ distracting you?” Newt tilted his head in question, watching the brunet through half-lidded eyes. A gesture so meaningful Thomas felt his throat tightening, making it difficult to swallow – or to even speak on that matter.

“You always have the best expressions, hands down,” Newt snickered, and suddenly the strange tense atmosphere gone as if a bubble popped. “Makes me want to tease you all the time, just to see it.”

“Mean,” Thomas muttered, trying to calm his wildly pounding heart.

“I’m a shark after all,” the blond offered a smile and nodded towards the hallway that unfolded in front of them. “Let’s continue the tour? I promise I’ll behave.”

“I find it hard to believe,” Thomas mumbled more to himself than to Newt, but the blond smirked anyway.

“Not _hard_ at all.”

“My god.”

***

Dealing with Newt was a strange experience. They made it through the whole building, and Thomas hadn’t felt any wiser at the end of it, couldn’t say if he knew how this man ticked. All he knew was the blond had been keeping a strange distance, physical-wise. Not getting close, not touching, but letting the banter flow (also double meaning remarks that made Thomas sputter indignantly), and behaving friendly, all smiles. But Thomas felt the strange barrier – something that wasn’t there on Saturday. An invisible wall that always stopped him when he wanted to bring up the topic, or just to ask if Newt wanted to go out with him someday – somehow. He didn’t meant to ask for sex, he didn’t want to (or… he didn’t _want_ to keep it only about sex, his traditional mind refused the concept of getting physical without enough of an emotional base), but he definitely had been interested in knowing him better.

But Newt had been, as Minho would say probably, reflecting. He kept them both busy and basically ruled the conversation. If the topic turned out not to his liking, he had his way to pull it masterfully at different direction without Thomas noticing.

In the end, and after an almost hour later, they parted ways at the entrance of the building, wishing to each other a good night sleep, and Thomas couldn’t help but feeling a bit at loss. Not that he had been expecting something affectionate or spontaneous, no. But it still made him wondering what exactly just happened today. Because he was sure as hell he didn’t know.

***

 

He wasn’t even surprised to find Minho and Teresa at his place when he came back home. They both scolded him for taking so long while they promptly opened the bottle of red wine he had stashed and drank half of it.

“You should have said so,” Thomas opposed when Minho made a remark of him coming home late. “If I knew you were planning on coming here, I’d go home sooner.”

_No, I wouldn’t. Not with Newt there._

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Minho immediately poured wine into another glass and handed it to Thomas with a wide grin. “We haven’t really celebrated your birthday, so surprise! There is a cake on the counter.”

“You took me out for lunch,” Thomas protested, but went to the counter anyway, opening a neatly bind box and snorted at the cake shaped like penis with “ _You did it! Welcome to the club!_ ” on it. “My god, who was willing to make this cake for you?”

“Trade secret,” Minho winked at him. “I thought you’d like that. Being into guys now and all.”

“I don’t really think I’m into guys now,” Thomas muttered, licking his fingers from the whipped cream (seriously, too obscene, but at the same time absolutely hilarious).

“Did you fall for the one night stand whore?” Teresa gave him a suspicious look. “Because that’s just sad, Tom. Just sad.”

“Shut up,” he stuck out his tongue at her. “He’s not a whore.”

“Of course,” she snickered.

“Let him be,” Minho nudged her with his feet (it was the furthest he reached while being sprawled on Thomas’ couch with her sitting at the sofa). “It’s not like he’s going to see him again. Or at least not likely.”

“That’s what makes it even sadder,” she sighed. “Falling for some anonymous hooker.”

“Newt’s not a-,”

“Shuuuuuuuut up, both of you,” Minho whistled, cutting off any protest. “I wan’t a cake!”

Thomas only grumbled something and turned back towards the offensive pastry, reaching for a knife.

“I hope you’re giving a good head, buddy,” Minho hollered behind him and then promptly laughed his ass off. Thomas gritted his teeth and cut the requested part dangerously at the top, throwing it on the plate with menacing strength. Too bad it only made Minho laugh harder.

***

“Don’t tell me it didn’t piss you off as well?” Teresa gestured wildly. The third bottle of wine was almost empty and it was apparent she got already a little drunk. “You’re also getting me, what the fuuuuck. Who cares about that jerkface? As if he is some kind of prize to be won? I’ve wanted to laugh to his face, fucking arrogant prick.”

“You’re just angry he’s going to steal your spotlight,” Minho leered at her, his posture completely relaxed. He looked like was getting buried deeper and deeper into the cushions. “With being prettier and all.”

“What!” she barked. “Prettier?! Are you blind?!”

“I think he is sorta pretty?” Minho shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Tom, say something,” she turned her attention towards the third member who was slowly dozing off in the second armchair. “You don’t like him as well, stop pretending to be invisible and join the conversation!”

“He won,” Thomas mumbled sleepily. “Big brown eyes and all. You can’t compete.”

“You just _had to_ find out you’re gay at this moment, huh,” she pouted. “As if this jerkface wasn’t enough.” She nudged meaningfully Minho’s feet and the Asian yawned.

“I’m bi, and you’re not going to win this over by pointing fingers,” he informed her with a small smile. “And all I can say – dislike him all you want, but I think he’s a great asset to the team.”

“Ass, that he is,” she uttered icily. “You could see it on our Tom-radar. He’s always as if someone stabbed a stick to his ass and he had to walk with it when he’s around the guy.”

“’M not,” Thomas tried to protest, but he was already too tired to make it sound menacing. He was aware she kept on talking, but the sleep consumed his consciousness like a black curtain.

***

Thomas gave up the effort to look presentable after several useless attempts to get the chaos in his flat under control. Having Minho and Teresa over, them falling asleep on the sofa and couch, they all looked as fresh as 2 weeks old bread crumb, and with the slight hangover they sported no one really cared. There was only ruckus about coffee, clean underwear and a different shirt (Minho insisted and fished Thomas’ wardrobe for something that fit his bear arms, while Teresa just took the first white shirt she found and made it look like a fashion trend). Thomas wasn’t even sure what he picked up in the end, he was just happy they made it out of the apartment without broken limbs or bit marks.

“My head is gonna explode, I swear,” Minho whined in the elevator, massaging his temples with a tortured expression. “I shouldn’t have mixed the wine with vodka.”

“What a surprise,” Teresa grumbled. “I feel like barfing. You think I can throw up at the new guy and call it an accident?”

“I think he would barf back at you,” Minho patted her back. “So don’t. And if you do, not in my office. Or anywhere near it.”

“I’m never drinking with you, ever again,” Thomas added to the conversation and cursed the artificial light to be so strong, and noises so loud.

He spent majority of the day in his office, head resting against his desk with work piling around him unmercifully. Not only that they drank a lot, they also ate the whole penis cake and apparently it was, beside super sweet, also filled with another alcohol filing, which made Thomas’ stomach to hate him.

In his agony he completely missed the knocking, or that someone entered the room, until he felt a light touch on his head that made him shoot right back up, staring in panic at the blond in front of his table, with a file in his hand he was apparently poking Thomas with before.

“Don’t you look fresh and ready to go,” Newt looked him over. “Just like the rest of your group. Wild night?”

“Celebration of my birthday,” Thomas mumbled in return, trying to get his probably too wild hair under control. Judging by Newt’s amused expression it didn’t really work.

“I see. Happy birthday,” he wished him with a smile, putting the file in front of him. “I know _I_ should be giving _you_ a gift, but you caught me empty handed, and with a request on top of that.”

“Ask away,” Thomas waved his hand, stifling a yawn creeping on him.

“I looked into some old unfinished cases, found this one, but couldn’t read where the evidence from it is. I wondered if you can help me? I’d ask your always nicely mannered colleague, but she seemed like she wanted to barf and my suit was expensive. And I couldn’t find Minho, so…”

“No problem,” Thomas rose up, opening the file to see what it was about. “Good to see you getting acquainted with the work here.”

“I’m insufferable when I get bored,” Newt shrugged, opening the door for Thomas automatically. It was a small gesture, but it made Thomas smile. “Not to mention I got pointed to it by the CO anyway.”

“Joy,” the brunet piped.

“Also got told I can use your services when needed,” Newt added with a casual tone. “That you are _good at it_.”

Thomas froze in his tracks, stopping completely, and Newt burst out laughing.

“Also easily taken advantage of,” he informed him with giggles and Thomas groaned. This guy was going to be a death of him for sure.

He only hoped it would be _after_ he muster his courage and ask him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad so far, sorry.
> 
> I don't know how I would react getting such cake xD I just found the idea hilarious, and very Minho-style :D  
> Anyway, thank you for reading! <3


	7. A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Guess what!” the Asian shot out instead of hello and Thomas jerked his hands away from the box, glaring at his colleague with a reprimanding expression.  
> “Guess you can’t knock,” he barked back and Minho smirked, crossing his arms on his chest.   
> “My idea was approved, smartass,” he showed him a small, thin panel with THE MAZE RUNNER on it. It was neatly made, black and white, and Minho looked so proud Thomas gulped down any smart remark he had. “Isn’t it cool?”

Thomas didn’t know what to think of it. When he entered his office in the morning, there was a suspiciously looking box on his table, just sitting there, wrapped in a blue paper with a big ribbon on top of it. At first he stayed at the entrance, looking at it doubtfully. With the sense of humour his friends had he couldn’t be sure if it won’t explode when he approaches it.

It took him roughly 2 minutes of stepping around the table before he was sure he couldn’t hear any ticking sound or strange noises coming from it. He poked it, then carefully grabbed it and shook it with suspicion. It stayed quiet.

There was no insignia on it, no signature, no dedication, only a neatly wrapped blue box. He took a deep breath and pulled at the ribbon, setting it free. It slid down easily, granting him an access to its contents, and Thomas had to count to 10 before risking the possible unleashing of a demon army.

His hesitation proved too long though, because the door swung open abruptly before he even reached for the cover, revealing Minho there, all smiles and bright eyes.

“Guess what!” the Asian shot out instead of hello and Thomas jerked his hands away from the box, glaring at his colleague with a reprimanding expression.

“Guess you can’t knock,” he barked back and Minho smirked, crossing his arms on his chest.

“My idea was approved, smartass,” he showed him a small, thin panel with THE MAZE RUNNER on it. It was neatly made, black and white, and Minho looked so proud Thomas gulped down any smart remark he had. “Isn’t it cool?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, offering a smile. “Congratulations.”

“Tell that to Isaac,” Minho twirled the panel in between his fingers. “He presented it. Guess he can be very persuasive.”

“I’m pretty sure he can,” Thomas agreed with a snort and Minho’s eyes suddenly focused at the box.

“Uh oh. Teresa’s surprise?” he guessed the first thing Thomas thought of when he saw it as well.

“No clue,” the brunet admitted. “Found it this morning. Hadn’t had enough courage to open it yet.”

“Well, it gotta wait,” Minho informed him apologetically. “We have a work to do. Need you to assist me a bit.”

Thomas didn’t mind at all. If it was Teresa’s gift, it was potentially dangerous anyway and he was only happy to get a bit more time before a painful death.

***

Thomas tried to play it cool the whole meeting. When they arrived to the meeting room, Newt was already present, along with two more lawyers from Thomas’ company – Ben and Aris. They spent 10 minutes with Aris’ description of the last court session he had (with him being half private, half Runner, well, The Maze Runner now, it always varied from the long, boring business like trials they all had in the company, to actually amusing private ones, with an angry couples or an unlucky robbers), making all of them laugh like crazy with his storytelling skills. It definitely set the right mood and Thomas was content with the proceedings, even though he didn’t have a single opportunity to talk with Newt at all.

The new case wasn’t very catchy or interesting, but it took them two hours to go through it, getting all needed materials together, and Thomas had to admit Newt wasn’t kidding when he told him about the “perfectionist kink” – all his papers were neatly organized, he knew perfectly well where was which file, and it made him efficient and fast.

“If you want to have the honour?” Minho offered to Newt once they settled on the right approach and the blond smirked.

“Already confident enough to let me deal with it?”

“It’s not like you’re a newbie, yeah?” Minho shrugged. “I admit it’s a big case. If you don’t feel like it, all of us can take care of it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Newt shrugged, looking into the file with furrowed brows. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Also with Thomas’ help it would be a lot easier too,” Minho nodded towards the brunet, surprisingly without any sarcastic undertone. “He’s pretty good at keeping all the important bits.”

“I heard,” Newt smiled towards Thomas, a friendly, yet strangely unattached expression. “I’ll take the case. Will see if I need any help with it later.”

Not that it surprised the brunet, after what Newt told him before. He preferred working alone and he couldn’t blame him. But the possibility still made him kind of excited.

“Suits yourself,” Minho winked at him, the smug bastard, and they moved to another point of the meeting.

***

“It’s really fine to ask me, you know,” Thomas informed the blond as casually as he could, walking with him from the meeting room towards the elevator. “Minho is fairly free lately and Teresa refused to take any new cases before Christmas. So I’m free to help.”

“That’s nice of you, Tommy,” Newt smiled at him gently, but there was that silent “ _but no, thanks_ ” in his voice Thomas recognized without much hardship. “Ah, almost forgot it’s already December. Times fly.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Thomas rolled his eyes, the thought of going shopping for gifts made him sick. He always thought of getting gifts sooner – preferably through the year to avoid this pressure - but he never did and ended up buying stuff two days before Christmas. The crowds and all-present panic were a terrible punchline. “I have zero presents so far. It’s an agonizing thought.”

“I feel ya,” Newt chuckled. “Christmas is a bit of a cultural anachronism, but at least the food is worth it.”

“Not keen on celebrating?”

“Not really,” the blond shrugged. “Mostly too busy anyway. I enjoy giving gifts though. It’s fun to find the right combination that makes people react the best way.”

“What’s the best way?” Thomas smirked, noting the mischievous glint in Newt’s eyes.

“Depends on the person, to be honest,” Newt answered enigmatically. “You find how the person ticks and then it’s fairly easy to get them out of balance.”

“Shock then?” Thomas guessed with an amused expression and Newt shrugged.

“For some,” he admitted. “Oh man, it makes me sound very evil again, doesn’t it?”

“Sort of,” Thomas laughed. “But manageable.”

“Don’t tell the chick,” Newt said with a sigh and Thomas couldn’t stop the laughter even if he tried.

***

“You should see this,” Minho dragged him from the door to his office without asking and Thomas just went along without fight. There was a maniacal grin on Minho’s face and that was never a good idea to oppose to.

The Korean seated him in front of his PC in his office and clicked _play_ on a prepared video. At first it showed a black screen until it flickered to life and revealed a courtroom with lots of turned backs. It recorded from behind and fairly far as well, but even against those odds Thomas immediately recognized Newt at the attorney spot.

“-you seriously trying to tell me you hadn’t seen the man?” he was just saying, his steps leading towards the witness seat – a woman with a bun and old fashioned clothes and glasses. She looked somewhat strict, almost tough. “Over two meters high and one hundred kilograms heavy? Since you were able to call me a breast-fed sucker whose ink didn’t have chance to get dry from the law school during the break, you can’t possibly believe I’d get fooled by your supposedly bad eyesight, lady.”

“Objection!” the other attorney shrieked, another woman, and Newt glanced at her with an absolutely bored expression. She stuttered something out, but since it didn’t make any sense, she sat back down and stared at the papers in front of her.

Newt turned back towards the witness – the lady managed to get super pale over the time – and stepped closer.

“So?”

“I saw him,” she gritted through her teeth.

“Excellent,” he said. “What did you see?”

“He was getting the handbag from the ground,” the words spilled from her unwillingly, and Newt had the nerve to look towards the jury and _wink_.

“Giving it back to Miss Curtis?” he focused back at her and she only nodded grudgingly.

“I have no other questions,” the blond turned towards the judge and then sat back on his seat.

Minho stopped the vid there, snickering along the whole time.

“Breast-fed sucker, the judges have to love him, seriously.”

“What was it?” Thomas blinked in confusion at the screen and his colleague sat at the edge of the desk.

“Two years old shit, some supposed robbery. It’s long, but in the end the woman burst in tears, it’s hilarious. He wins the case. I can tell why Teresa calls him a shark. He smells weakness and he exploits it to the max, amazing,” Minho grinned. “It’s pretty coolio. Want to see how he handles this case, definitely going to see the hearing.”

“Holds a certain appeal, I guess,” Thomas admitted.

“Not to mention he’s kinda hot when he gets all forceful and intense, demanding answers. Wonder if he’s like that in bed-,”

“Minho!” Thomas glared at him and the Korean barked a laugh. It wasn’t anything new – Minho telling him this stuff because he was evil, but it ticked Thomas off when it was about this concrete person.

“Don’t get so offended, you puritan,” Minho patted his shoulder, hopping down. “It’s not like I’d fuck him in front of you.”

“Fuck you,” Thomas grumbled and flipped his friend off.

_As fucking if._

Minho’s laughter followed him all the way through the hallway.

***

Thomas completely forgot about the gift box until he got back to his office several hours later. It waited for him there patiently, at the same state he left it at, taunting him from the table.

“Alright, Teresa,” he mumbled, sitting down and reaching for it. “Let’s see what’s this year’s revenge.”

He opened it carefully, unwrapping the paper as if it was made of glass, and then lifted the cover. The box was full of plush filling, and in the middle of it a dark blue sack was seated. Thomas uncovered it with undeniable curiosity (and maybe a little of dread as well), only to stop right the moment he discovered what it was hiding.

On all those soft cushions lay a pair of silvery handcuffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad so far, sorry!
> 
> Everyone should have a pair of handcuffs, no? :D Tralala.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	8. A Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But who knew she had such a kinky streak in her? Too bad they’re not with the pink fluff around the edges,” Minho put the handcuffs back to the box, smirking. “At least it’s a practical gift, eh? For another ONS.”  
> “What?” Thomas glared at him unhappily and Minho only waved his hand.  
> “I know you are all into the first guy, yada yada yada. Just saying, handcuffs can come in handy.”

“It could have been worse?” Minho shrugged, turning the offensive handcuffs in his hands, inspecting them. “She could have given you a dildo. Or something.”

                Thomas only whined, hiding his face in his palms. He didn’t really mean Minho to see it, but he entered his office without knocking again at the exact moment Thomas was too shocked to do anything else but stare at the box, and then it was too late to hide it. Minho had too much fun with it anyway, so bothering with some fancy lie would prove useless.

“But who knew she had such a kinky streak in her? Too bad they’re not with the pink fluff around the edges,” Minho put the handcuffs back to the box, smirking. “At least it’s a practical gift, eh? For another ONS.”

“What?” Thomas glared at him unhappily and Minho only waved his hand.

“I know you are all into the first guy, yada yada yada. Just saying, handcuffs can come in handy.”

At that moment it finally occurred to Thomas in full force.

The handcuffs weren’t from Teresa. They had to be from Newt. Because he just loved to shock people with gifts, he said that, right? And the handcuffs were the first thing Thomas asked him for when they first met.

It made sense, right?

He groaned and hit the table with his forehead, staying that way. A freaking handcuffs. He just couldn’t get him a coffee mug or something? He just had to get him handcuffs. That guy wanted him to suffer, that for sure. He should use it on him, just for a good measure, handcuffing him somewhere hidden and dark and…

“We should think of some nasty revenge,” Minho said somewhere above him, interrupting his suddenly naughty thoughts that shocked even him alone. “How about a riding crop and naughty laced negligee?”

“Just don’t say a word to her,” Thomas mumbled, thinking of Teresa. If it hadn’t been her, and he was almost sure it hadn’t, a sudden mention of handcuffs would raise an avalanche of questions. Who gave it to him? Why? And then he would have to dodge it and pray not to have a slip of a tongue and reveal it was Newt, because he would never hear the end of it. And he couldn’t let them know who Newt really was to him, could he, for the sake of them both. “I’ll think of something.”

“Mmmmkay.”

***

He wasn’t surprised he found Newt fully engrossed in the materials for the new case in his new shiny office, making small notes at a piece of paper already half full of scribbles. His table was barely visible under the tons of papers and files scattered around, as if it had no order, which was slightly surprising.  

“You have some wicked sense of humour,” Thomas informed him right when he closed the door behind him, and Newt spared only a brief glace towards him before returning to writing.

“Do I?” he responded shortly, his voice not giving anything away.

“The blue box, it was from you, right?” Thomas decided to start with a more safe accusation than blurting something about handcuffs right away. There was still a slight possibility it _was_ Teresa, making his life miserable because she knew she was in a safe zone with whatever she did.

“The blue box?” it made Newt raised his head, looking at him incredulously. “I don’t remember giving you the Tardis, Doctor.”

“Funny,” he snorted and slowly approached the table. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you.”

“I’m not quite sure,” Newt put his pen down and gave him his full attention – something that made Thomas slightly nervous with the intensity.

“The gift,” Thomas said shortly, earning a blank look in return. “Which you left in my office?”

“Did I?” Newt tilted his head to the side and Thomas felt the colour draining from his face.

_My god, at least I haven’t asked him about the handcuffs right away._

“Um, no?” he tried and scratched the back of his head nervously. “Sorry. Guess it was Teresa then, just thought…”

“That I’m kinky enough to give you handcuffs?” Newt filled the gap with an evil grin and Thomas’ jaw probably dropped a little.

“It _was_ you!”

“Guilty of charge,” Newt raised his hands in defeat, but the grin stayed. “You haven’t liked it? Shame.”

“You gave me _handcuffs_!” Thomas hissed accusingly, his voice dropping low.

“You asked for them after all,” Newt shrugged and then halted mid move, looking at Thomas questioningly: “Don’t tell me you really thought The Chick would give you handcuffs?”

“It’s her style,” Thomas mumbled. “She loves to make my life miserable.”

“Aw, but I didn’t mean to make you miserable,” Newt chuckled, taking the pen again. “Just harmless fun. An inside joke.”

“Riiiight,” Thomas sighed and it only made Newt to smile even more. “Well, glad you had fun.”

“At least you don’t need to ask for them next time,” Newt leered while making another note on the paper. “If they won’t bring theirs right away, that is.”

“Hilarious,” Thomas uttered and crossed his arms on his chest. “Since you’re in such a pranking mood, how about lunch?”

“Lunch? It’s 9,” Newt checked his watch just to be sure and Thomas rolled his eyes. He was making fun of him on purpose, that smug bastard.

“I mean at noon, of course,” he informed him with the same tone he would say “ _duh_ ”, and Newt smirked.

”Of course,” he replied and then seemed thoughtful for a while. “Well. Not sure, but come at noon and we’ll see. Depends on how far I’d get with this.”

“I can still help,” Thomas offered, even though he knew the answer already, and Newt only shooed him away.

***

Thomas wasn’t counting minutes. Of course not. Why would he? He had a work to do. He had tons of work to do, the delayed stuff he neglected the day before, piling up like a menacing Pisa tower on his table. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, most of it just needed approving, one signature or one inquiry towards the court and it was all, but the simple glance towards it made Thomas slightly panic anyway.

Or it should make him panic. If he cared about it. And he did, probably, deep, deep down in his consciousness. But it got overpowered by the ticking clock that got closer and closer towards 12, and Thomas found himself staring at the clock instead of working. He was thinking and planning, and then when it _finally_ reached the noon, he shot out of his office like a bolt.

He found Newt in his nest again, thankfully, the table looking a lot cleaner now, papers stacked on their places in several piles, the first list with notes terribly full and another one already reaching the end of the first page.

“So?” he asked right when he opened and Newt gestured for him to come in and close the door, but remained silent. Thomas entered without another word, closed after him and waited. He tried not to show his impatience and slowly growing doubt they’ll have the lunch together in the end, with the amount of still unsorted papers on the right side of the table.

After several more minutes of a heated scribbling Newt let out a long sigh and stretched, finally looking at Thomas with a smile.

“Sorry for the wait. Lunch, right?”

“Yep,” the brunet confirmed it and felt a light, happy flutter in his stomach when Newt actually stood up and reached for his coat.

“Where are we going?” the blond asked while dressing up and turning off the notebook. “Something concrete in mind?”

“There is a restaurant fairly close to this place,” Thomas shrugged. “If you don’t have a wish for something special, I think it’s all good.”

“Not really, I’d eat a horse if they offered it as the first thing,” Newt smirked and took his keys. “Lead the way, Tommy.”

Thomas didn’t even try to hide the smile that forced its way to his lips.

***

Newt was an amusing companion. He could be super business-like, almost like a royalty, and then suddenly could jump to being a cheeky little shit, pointing out stuff Thomas would never even think of.

He made remarks about the crankiness of the receptionist at the company building, ending it with “ _she probably didn’t have some in months; we should help her out with that_ ”, then suddenly musing that the logo of the restaurant “ _looks like a dick pic”_ , and right after asking Thomas about the school he was attending, all in one go.

Thomas felt they could talk about serious stuff as well as the weirdest topic reachable and not even take a break. It was ridiculous, but Thomas loved it.

“We should do this more often,” Thomas noted through the conversation with a smile playing on his lips, and Newt snorted.

“Lunch you mean?” he gave Thomas a look and the brunet shrugged.

“Yeah. Or just. Hanging out more often.”

He probably sounded stupidly hopeful because Newt stilled and raised an eyebrow.

“What for?”

The question was strange, Thomas thought. Unattached, maybe a little surprised. _What for_? Wasn’t it obvious? Or had he been acting too casual all this time?

“To know each other a little better?” he offered meekly and there was a sudden understanding in Newt’s eyes.

“Ah, crap,” the blond breathed out. “I just… I didn’t mean to… send wrong signals or anything.”

”Wrong signals?” Thomas repeated, his throat tightening with a bad feeling rising up. Newt gave out a long, exasperated sigh and put down the fork he was nibbling the food with before.

“That I’m interested or… stuff,” he explained, a little apologetically. “In dating.”

“Ah,” was the only thing Thomas could say. It was strangely calm and gentle, this refusal.

“I mean, you’re a great guy, no doubt,” Newt offered a smile, strangely out of place. Had it been happening to him often? People getting attached to him and him feeling obliged to turn them down? And then just trying to make it better with a compliment, to ease some pressure of the unspoken _no_? “Just. Not my thing.”

“Dating?” the brunet let out weakly and Newt nodded shortly.

“Relationships.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest-,”

“You didn’t,” Newt quickly stopped him. “I just want you to know before we reach the awkward moment you’d feel like asking, maybe, thinking we are ticking well or something, and I’d have to tell you a flat no, and then we would never talk to each other like this again, and pass each other on the hallway with half-mouthed hello, and it would be a pity, no?”

“Yeah,” Thomas said shortly. He had a point, he had to admit. It still left him a little hollow though.

Newt watched him carefully for a moment and then hummed.

“I already messed it up, didn’t I.”

“No, you didn’t,” Thomas refused quickly.

“You’re disappointed,” the blond opposed. He was right; Thomas didn’t bother to deny that to himself. But Newt was civil about it, he even apologized, and he hadn’t needed to. He didn’t do anything wrong after all, there were no hard feelings, no one at fault.

“It’s alright,” the brunet waved his hand, forcing a smile, but it probably looked as wrong as it felt.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Newt concluded. “I should have realized it sooner.”

“It’s really fine,” Thomas assured him, trying to get his facial expression under control. “It’s not like I wanted to propose.”

“I wouldn’t mind a ring,” Newt chuckled, probably happy for the lighter note as well. “Just without the commitment, preferably.”

“If you like it, you should put a ring on it,” Thomas teased, the strange downed feeling slowly dropping from his shoulders to his chest, making a room for something lighter, a distraction maybe. He knew it was going to bother him later, but he refused to ruin lunch with it, or Newt’s mood for that matter.

“Ah, have no doubt that I like you a lot,” Newt smiled at him gently. “But I don’t want to lead you on or anything.”

“I appreciate it,” Thomas nodded.

It was weird, he mused to himself. The strangest _did I just get dumped_? happened and he wasn’t sure what he felt. He _was_ disappointed, no doubt. But it was… alright? Sort of expected maybe? Not as bad?

He didn’t even ask him, not really. Not for a date or anything, so he couldn’t count it as “being dumped” thoroughly. And with Newt being so civil about it, so delicate and sensitive, it was difficult to be mad or avoid him because of it.

“Who would want to date a guy who gives handcuffs as b-day gifts, right?” Newt interrupted his thoughts with a chuckle.

“Don’t remind me,” Thomas groaned. “I thought I’d die in shame when Minho came in and saw it.”

“Oh, he did?” Newt snickered. “He looks more like someone who would use it, I guess.”

“Yeah, he would,” Thomas agreed with a small laugh. “I think he already did at some point.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Newt nodded with a smile, the atmosphere changing back to a comfortable one.

_Well, there goes my unpredictability,_ Thomas mused. It wasn’t that bad.

                “I just can’t figure out why would someone like you go for an NSA sort of thing?”

Thomas almost sputtered out the drink and Newt laughed at him unmercifully.

“Just a curious thought,” he explained when Thomas gave him an evil eye for it. “It was your first time, and judging from what I know about you so far also the last. So what made you to try it?”

“It was a birthday gift,” he admitted grudgingly. “From Minho and Teresa.”

Newt stared at him a little tad longer than necessary, his expression confused.

“They gave you a one night stand for birthday?” he repeated the fact in wonder and Thomas sighed.

“Yeah… they… how to say it. _Got fed up with my moping_?” he repeated their phrase and Newt couldn’t look more surprised. “I went through a broke up a month ago. Guess I acted like an idiot and they thought this would… help.”

“Unorthodox,” Newt mused. “But I guess it did?”

“I… guess,” Thomas hummed. He definitely stopped thinking about his ex, that for sure. So the purpose was filled successfully.

Only with a slightly different outcome than was expected. But Newt didn’t need to know about it.

***

Thomas hid the handcuffs to the lowest shelf and covered them with useless papers and binders. He couldn’t bring himself to take them home, and he didn’t _want_ to get rid of them either (which was terribly cliché, but true nevertheless). So he put them there and hoped no one would look, and he’d forget about it too.

He got rid of the work that piled up through the day, trying to get the lunch events out of his head.

So Newt didn’t do relationships. He didn’t date. But he was apparently keen on having anonymous sex with random people. Thomas couldn’t help but wonder what was so bad about dating for him to refuse it so thoroughly, but alright with changing partners this easily.

A sudden pop up window halted his thoughts immediately and he blinked several times while reading it.

“ _I have a mighty need of you_ ,” it said. “ _Bring handcuffs_!”

Thomas read it several times in stupor, noting very well it didn’t come from Minho as he expected, but Newt. He contemplated on answering it first, but decided against it and rather did what it asked him to, except the handcuffs part.

_Teasing bastard._

He didn’t really bother with knocking when he arrived; he just opened the door slowly and peeked inside hesitantly.

“That was _slow_ ,” Newt greeted him from his table and Thomas closed the doors behind him, approaching the desk with unsure expression. “No handcuffs? Spoilsport.”

“They’re only for special cases,” the brunet responded, fidgeting a little. It was three hours after the lunch, most of the people were already home, but Newt was still here, still working, and now even asking for Thomas to come here. After what unfolded during the event Thomas couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised.

“Am I not special enough?” Newt responded playfully, making Thomas roll his eyes. “Mean.”

“Why are you still here? It’s late,” Thomas pointed out and Newt leered.

“Same reason as you,” the blond shrugged. “Work.”

“Fair enough,” Thomas shrugged and sat down, looking at the lawyer expectantly. “So… what’s going on?”

“Just wanted to see if you’d bring the handcuffs,” Newt shrugged casually.

“And that’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Are you serious?” Thomas stared at him doubtfully and Newt smirked.

“Would you be angry if I was?”

“Would just put you at the same column as Minho,” Thomas sighed. “That guy is able to send me an urgent message as if the world was ending or he caught spontaneously on fire to make me run there like an idiot, just to show me a vid with a cat jumping off the railing with _Sail_ playing.”

“That’s something I can live with,” Newt chuckled, but then apparently took mercy on the brunet, because his expression grew a little more serious. “I was actually meaning to ask you for help.”

“Really?” Thomas blinked in surprise and Newt seemed a little nervous about it.

“The case… I mean, it’s not _that_ difficult, just… pressuring. With Christmas and all. I thought it’s fine, since I’m not big on Christmas, but…” he paused, apparently trying to find the right words. “If you are still able. I thought I’d ask. It’s fine if you already got another work.”

“No, it’s fine,” Thomas replied, trying to hide his confusion. “I’ve told you I can help.”

“That you did,” Newt agreed, his posture relaxing a little. “Just wasn’t sure if you’d want to.”

Thomas couldn’t help but laugh at the notion.

“I’m not a lovelorn school girl, Newt,” he noted, taking the chair closer to the table, just to freeze in the middle of the move when it occurred to him.

He just called him Newt, didn’t he?

His eyes skimmed towards the blond guiltily, just to see him smirking.

“Took a liking to the nickname?” the blond teased him and Thomas probably turned super red.

“Sorry, just a slip of a tongue,” he mumbled apologetically, making Newt laugh even harder.

“It’s fine, _Tommy_ ,” he _winked_ at him devilishly. “You can call me whatever you like.”

“The work,” the brunet piped hopelessly, just to _stop_ him talking about it, making him even redder. “Let’s talk about the work, shall we?”

“If you prefer,” the blond offered much warmer smile and pushed forward the smallest pile of papers. “This is the stuff that actually deals with the case problematic. Going through it is sort of mandatory to understand. The rest is gibberish we don’t really need to bother with. There are some things I’m not very sure about, so I need to research it further-,”

“I’ll do it,” Thomas stopped him. “Just highlight the stuff you need to search for and leave it to me.”

“Already done,” Newt nodded. “Thank you. That helps a great deal.”

“No problem,” Thomas assured him, taking the pile of papers closer to him, and then stopping. “You want me here?”

“Thought you will never ask,” Newt shot back; it almost sounded like an automatic response, and Thomas snorted.

“Smooth,” he commented and the blond only smirked back.

“Don’t sweat it today. I’d start with all tomorrow, it’s late already,” he informed Thomas simply. “But your presence here is… let’s say preferred.”

“Is it now?” Thomas risked a seductive smile, just because he could, and Newt hummed in agreement.

“Always, Tommy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad so far, sorry!
> 
> So, this is a tad longer chapter, cuz it's weekend and i won't be able to even remotedly touch it. It was fun to write actually :D  
> Hope it didn't disappoint QQ


	9. Newt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Spoilsport,” Newt snorted. “Now I only have to wonder what he wanted to get as a counter gift for the handcuffs.”  
> “You can ask him,” Thomas grumbled. “My bet is on a riding crop or a gag.”  
> “Kinky.”  
> “I wouldn’t laugh be on your place. He will do it,” Thomas turned around to give the blond a reprimanding look. “And she’ll tell him it wasn’t from her, and they will team on me and I’ll be forced to tell them it was from you, and you know what’s gonna happen next?”

“Isaac, have you seen Tho-whaaaaaat?”

Thomas didn’t even bother to raise his head from his work, typing swiftly all the needed data, when he head Minho’s voice from the door. Newt chuckled next to him.

“I believe I have,” the blond confirmed the Asian’s suspicion. “Did you need anything?”

“Just… stuff,” Minho replied, his voice closer now, until he reached the desk at which Thomas was sitting at, drawing his attention to him.

“I’ve borrowed him for a bit,” Newt said easily. “If that’s okay?”

“It’s all good,” Minho shrugged, sending Thomas a cheeky smile, as if he was trying to convey some hidden message. “Told you it’s fine before, yeah?”

“Just gotta love how you talk about me as if I was a piece of furniture,” Thomas commented their banter with a sigh and Minho ruffled his hair as a consolation.

“Gotta deal, my boy,” he winked at him with a grin and Thomas rolled his eyes. He had been in Newt’s office since the morning and they managed to get the whole thing almost ready in ridiculously short time. Newt was efficient and relentless, he had his systematic approach to problems and Thomas had to admire his ability to organize even the most chaotic mess.

“Just wanted to talk about… Teresa’s gift,” Minho wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully and Thomas supressed a groan. He just _had to_ mention it in front of the guy whose gift it actually was, hadn’t he. “I think I’ve found the best retalita-.”

“I think you should shut your trap and get back to work,” Thomas barked at him, stopping the suggestion. “ _We_ are busy.”

Minho’s eyes skimmed from Thomas to Newt and back and then sighed dramatically (Thomas hoped he got the memo of leaving the topic alone), sliding down of the table and leaving the room without another word.

“Spoilsport,” Newt snorted. “Now I only have to wonder what he wanted to get as a counter gift for the handcuffs.”

“You can ask him,” Thomas grumbled. “My bet is on a riding crop or a gag.”

“Kinky.”

“I wouldn’t laugh be on your place. He will do it,” Thomas turned around to give the blond a reprimanding look. “And she’ll tell him it wasn’t from her, and they will team on me and I’ll be forced to tell them it was from you, and you know what’s gonna happen next?”

“I’ll get appreciated for originality?” Newt smirked in amusement and Thomas feared his eyes were going to stay on the other side of his skull for how much he rolled them today.

***

 

“Well, aren’t you all buddy-buddy with him.”

Thomas refused to react on Teresa’s comment and sat down quietly instead, pulling the plate with food closer.

“Suddenly working together like long lost friends, hm?” she pried once more, her voice even shrewder. He didn’t need to ask how she found out they’re working together now, based on Minho’s badly hidden smirk.

“Going for lunch together, visiting each other’s offices, right?” she tapped her fingers on the table, looking at him with laser-like intensity.

“Is there a point to your babbling?” he frowned at her and Teresa shrugged.

“I dunno,” she said calmly. “Is there? You have hots for him?”

Thomas groaned, his appetite gone.

“Because that’s the only logical explanation,” she continued, ignoring his unwillingness. “I can’t possibly think of any other normal reason for you to willingly spend time with this guy.”

“Teresa, for fuck’s sake, what’s your problem?” he glared at her. “You haven’t even talked to him. You’re pissy because some vids you watched, that weren’t even your cases or anything. Can’t you finally fucking grow up and accept there are _better_ lawyers than you are?”

She snorted and snapped her fingers towards Minho. The Asian only hissed something and dragged out his wallet, pulling out a 50 and handing it to her.

“Fucking cheater,” he grumbled unhappily. “You know him all your life.”

“Oh please, he’s so predictable you can say how he’ll react after 5 minutes of knowing him,” she waved the 50 dollar bill in front of Minho’s eyes and then hid it in her pocket with a victorious smile. “And he’s hardly subtle with those puppy dog eyes of his.”

“Excuse me?” Thomas started at them both incredulously and Minho only shrugged.

“We were just wondering how long it’s going to take for you to get all defensive,” he explained. “Four days. A record, I think?”

“Oh, shut up,” Thomas stabbed the piece of meat and pushed the plate away again, completely without any need to eat it.

“I think it’s actually surprising?” Minho offered. “It’s a guy. You usually fall for dark haired girls. Like Bren-I mean, like What’s-her-name.”

“Yeah, your sudden interest in guys is a little unnerving,” Teresa added. “Like you got kidnapped by aliens and the guy we’re speaking to now is just a clone.”

“Very funny,” he grumbled.

“Or maybe Shark is sorta like a girl?” she suggested, a strange viciousness in her voice. “All blond and _pretty_.”

“Newt’s normal, now shut up about it and eat your lunch,” Thomas growled and tried very hard to ignore her amused laughter. Why had he even turned down Newt’s offer to go eat together? As if letting these two nagging him was any better than leaving Newt making double meaning remarks the whole lunch.

“So the new case is all good?” Minho thankfully changed the topic, watching Thomas with blank expression and the brunet could finally breathe a little easier when he could talk about something normal for a change.

“Might get funny at some point, few witnesses are rather dubious, but yeah, I think it’s gonna be fine,” he replied easily. “I think the hearing won’t be sooner than next year though.”

“Thought so,” Minho shrugged. “Think that’s expected. Sheesh, Christmas in two weeks, can you believe it? I haven’t even started with buying gifts. Oh, speaking of gifts, Tere-ouch!”

Thomas only snarled at him, pulling his feet back from Minho’s shin, and the Asian shot him a hurt look.

“What?” Teresa asked with raised eyebrows and Minho only _hmph_ ed in response.

“ _Nothing_ ,” Thomas uttered. “He’s just _a blabbermouth_.”

“Nothing new,” she said only, returning to her food. “You two are like kids, seriously.”

“Tell that to him, he _kicked me_ ,” Minho grumbled.

“If it was cuz of a gift for me, you both know what I want, so it’s no secret worth kicking him for,” she informed them sternly. “If not, kick him whatever you like.”

“No wonder you’re still single,” Minho muttered and Thomas wasn’t even surprised that another yelp resounded the restaurant.

***

“Had fun?” Newt welcomed him with a smile, his table almost empty with the case neatly folded into one place, bound in a binder. He must have finished it through the lunch, Thomas mused, and super-fast too.

“Not really,” Thomas shrugged. “They can be painfully annoying. Next time I’m so going out with you.”

“Oh?”

“You’re a thousand times better company,” Thomas mumbled while sitting down, taking his notebook and switching it on.

“Flatterer,” Newt smiled and sipped from his cup – probably coffee, Thomas thought.

“You finished the prep?” the brunet nodded towards the pile and Newt hummed in agreement.

“So-so,” he replied after a moment. “There are some things I left for you to cover up, if you don’t mind. It’s usually the nice talk I’m not big at towards the court and the lawyer of the respondent.”

“You seemed like a sweet talker though,” Thomas teased and Newt looked at him curiously.

“Am I now?”

“Seemingly.”

“Interesting,” the blond focused back to his own notebook, but corners of his mouth curled up a little. “Have I already thanked you for your help?”

“Several times,” Thomas laughed. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Was just making sure, didn’t want you to feel unappreciated,” Newt sighed, apparently gathering his thoughts. “I’m not really good at this.”

“At… _this_?” Thomas looked around in surprise, wondering what the man was referring to, but found none.

“Cooperating in a case. Or in general, really,” the blond shrugged. “I tend to get snappy when others are disturbing my work.”

“Oh,” Thomas let out. “Am I disturbing your work?”

“That’s the thing,” Newt leaned forward, propping his chin on his palm. “You are not.”

“Good,” the brunet smiled lightly, the dread from the suggestion slowly seeping away.

“I just can’t figure out why,” Newt added, more to himself than to Thomas from the look on his face – a little confused, a little awed. “Your methods are… clean, I guess. Efficient. The way I like it. But you’re still not me, and yet… it’s fine. I just don’t get it.”

“The secret of the universe,” Thomas chuckled, clicking quickly on the e-mail Newt sent him with the contacts and requests. He quickly went through it, made few mental notes to it, and closed it again.

“I suppose,” the blond agreed thoughtfully.

“Alright, I’ll go make a few calls and will give you an echo if anything,” Thomas stood up and took the notebook with him. “It shouldn’t take very long.”

“Thank you,” Newt smiled at him warmly, and Thomas refused to admit it made his stomach do a weird jump and flutter. He rather left the office without another word, to keep some dignity, and in his absolutely hazed state almost missed Minho standing at the small kitchen opposite of his office, watching him curiously from there.

“Well aren’t you all glowy,” he commented on Thomas’s state, and it sounded strangely accusing. Thomas wasn’t sure why and it made him to stop and return to the present like nothing else could.

“A problem?” he asked cautiously. Minho didn’t look angry or sad, but there was a strange intensity in his eyes, so something had to happen. His colleague only quietly nodded towards Thomas’ office and they both entered in silence. Thomas felt his body getting heavy and his mind panicked a little from the silent treatment.

“Minho, if this is about the kick-,”

“Actually, yeah,” the Asian admitted, closing the door behind him and leaning heavily over the frame. “Sort of.”

“So…?”

“So don’t you want to tell me something?”

“Like what?” Thomas countered, dropping the notebook on his table, trying to get busy with that. A dread was coming to him again, gripping him tightly and refused to let go.

“Like the handcuffs,” Minho said. “Aren’t from Teresa.”

“I told you not to talk to her about-,”

“I didn’t,” Minho interrupted him. “I really didn’t need to. Your behaviour today told me all I needed.”

“Did it now?” Thomas felt a frown creeping on his face, almost involuntary one.

“Isaac gave them to you?” Minho dropped another bomb and Thomas’ breath hitched. “Because Isaac is the ONS guy, isn’t he.”

“What-,”

“Because you said _Newt_ today. It sounded familiar, I just couldn’t put my finger on it until a bit later. Because _Newt_ was the guy from Saturday, yeah? You called him that way on Monday.”

“Minho-,”

“That’s why you reacted like someone paralyzed you from waist down on Monday, when you first saw him,” Minho didn’t let him continue. “Not because you didn’t like him as Teresa thought. Because it was _him_ and you already _fell_ for him on Saturday, and suddenly he was there and you hadn’t expected it.”

Thomas gave up. He just stood there, staring, probably pale as a white-painted wall, and Minho looked like he was terribly disappointed.

“And that smug bastard gave you handcuffs,” he concluded coldly. “Because why the hell not, right. You already fucked anyway.”

“Minho, that’s enough,” Thomas croaked weakly. “Just enough.”

“I’m right, am I not?” the Asian frowned. “It’s him.”

“Yes,” Thomas said only. There was no point in pretending anymore, not in front of Minho. He couldn’t say if there was something painfully wrong about the admission, or if just Minho overreacted, but Thomas suddenly felt like a villain, or a betrayer, and Minho’s expression only made it worse.

“Precious,” Minho uttered, turned around and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad, sorry!
> 
> Well. Yay?


	10. A Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”Minho knows,” Thomas whispered, letting go slowly, and Newt blinked few times. “About you.”  
> “Oh crap,” Newt sighed. “So now they know I’m a criminal and assassinated Kennedy?”  
> “Smartass,” Thomas pushed him half-heartedly and Newt chuckled, letting go of Thomas completely, only to get back to his table and sitting at the edge of it.

“Wow, what happened? You look like someone died.”

Thomas didn’t really know what made him to abandon the safety of his own office and drag himself back to Newt’s without even trying to make all the needed calls and inquiries. He was like in a haze, his thoughts messy and without proper sense. The weird hollowness from Minho’s scene made him strangely unattached, like if something terrible happened but his brain couldn’t catch up and only let on the dread of the approaching understanding.

“Do you need something? Drink, eat, hug, I dunno?” Newt rose from his seat, his face concerned, and Thomas didn’t even know why, but his lips formed “hug” immediately, spelling it out without shame (probably only to be mortified later)

Newt surprisingly didn’t hesitate and pulled him close, circled his arms around him, and Thomas was lost. He held him back, face burying in his shirt, and Newt rocked them from side to side, cooing at him gently.

”Minho knows,” Thomas whispered, letting go slowly, and Newt blinked few times. “About you.”

“Oh crap,” Newt sighed. “So now they know I’m a criminal and assassinated Kennedy?”

“Smartass,” Thomas pushed him half-heartedly and Newt chuckled,  letting go of Thomas completely, only to get back to his table and sitting at the edge of it.

“So what does he know?” he asked calmly, his posture casual, and Thomas fidgeted nervously.

“That you and me… on Saturday…”

“Yeah, what else is new?” Newt cocked his head to the side, completely unaffected, and it gave Thomas a serious pause.

“Wait, you mean you don’t mind?” he stuttered in confusion and Newt kept on watching him without any change in his expression.

“Mind what? That your bud knows we had sex while it was him who gave you the possibility? Oh please,” Newt snorted, crossing his arms on his chest. “As if it changed anything.”

“He looked… angry. Or disappointed, I’m not sure,” Thomas mumbled. “It’s going to affect you too, I just…”

“I’m pretty much used to having people disappointed in me, it’s nothing new,” Newt shrugged. “Or people having the same attitude the Chick has. It’s fairly common.”

“Yeah, sure,” Thomas muttered, sitting at the sofa nervously. Newt being unpopular? That was ridiculous. He was smart, funny and attractive. He excelled in his work and was precise and successful. What was there to dislike? Except of Teresa’s stupid reasons, of course.

“Sure,” Newt smirked. “If you’re worrying because of me, it’s really alright. I’m dealing with this all the time.”

“With…?” Thomas didn’t want to assume anything, but the first thing that came to his mind was _sleeping with colleagues_ before anything else.

“People disliking me,” Newt answered lightly. “At some point.”

“Minho likes you,” Thomas opposed. “It’s me who he’s mad at. For whatever reason he has.”

“I thought he knew?” Newt offered. “That it’s me. He always made those double meaning remarks, it seemed like he was aware.”

“No,” the brunet mumbled. “He realized today. Seemed like it made him unreasonably angry.”

“Don’t beat yourself over it,” Newt smiled gently at him. “It’s gonna be fine. You’re a nice guy; everyone likes nice guys, yeah? He’ll come around.”

“I just don’t understand what made him like… that,” Thomas pointed with a frown. “It’s not like it has something to do with him?”

“He’s your friend?” Newt shrugged. “He cares about this stuff I suppose.”

“It’s my private matter.”

“And he still cares,” was the answer and Thomas took a deep breath. Minho had always been nosey, he didn’t know why it surprised him so much now. Maybe because it was hypocritical from him? Being all angry about the fact Thomas slept with Newt, when it was Minho who pushed him to it. Or was it because Thomas kept Newt’s identity secret?

_Stupid, that’s a logical thing to do. He would do the same if he wanted to protect the partner, right?_

“You know what,” Newt suddenly slid from the table and his face broke into a huge smile. “Let’s go drinking!”

“Drinking?”

“Yeah, let out some steam, have a glass or two, relax, yeah?” Newt was already grabbing his coat and switching everything off, so the refusal was probably out of the question now. “C’mon, don’t overthink it, I won’t make you embarrassed or anything. Just a friendly chat, what do you say?”

“Yeah… sure,” Thomas nodded slowly and the smile Newt gave him made all feel alright again.

***

Thomas couldn’t drink. He was weaker towards the alcohol than a child to a chocolate offer, Newt’s _two glasses_ already almost knocked him out of the world. And yet he still kept going, even though Newt was laughing at him, he took another one, and _babbled_. He spouted terrible, terrible nonsense. He said Newt is _pretty_. He concluded Teresa is super attractive, but _bitchy_ as hell, and confided he actually wanted to date her several years ago, during college.

“I can’t say I blame you, mate,” Newt shrugged while sipping his drink, watching Thomas amusedly. “She has some hella fine legs.”

“She is gorgeous now,” Thomas pointed out, a little unsteady. “She wasn’t like that on the college. She was… approachable there. She’s not now. At all. Even a lil.”

“You just need the right angle I suppose?” Newt offered and Thomas nodded thoughtfully, even though his actual thoughts were scattered like hell.

“I believed Min dated her, foooor like… forever.”

“And he didn’t?” the blond raised an eyebrow and Thomas shook his head vehemently.

“I thought he did,” he repeated. “But if they had it on at some point… I dunno. Maybe I missed it, oooor. Maybe they are secretly married already. They act like married people. Right? Right.”

“Of course,” Newt smiled and his hand sneaked around Thomas’ glass, slowly taking it away. “So what about Minho? Why he hadn’t dated the Chick?”

“I love how you two do that thing,” Thomas giggled.

“Thing?”

“The nickname thing,” the brunet reached for the glass, only to have it snatched further, and pouted. “You and Tesa. The nicks. Fun.”

“Oh,” Newt pushed the glass out of Thomas’ reach and stopped him from leaning towards it with an uncompromising hand on the brunet’s chest. “What does she call me then?”

“Shaaark,” Thomas leered. “Cuz of the stuff you do. At court.”

“Figures.”

“It’s amaziiing,” Thomas grinned broadly, then finally realizing Newt was touching him. “You started touching me.”

“You almost fell,” Newt shrugged, but his hand stayed.

“You started touching me before. You didn’t. You kept further aaaall the time. But you don’t now.”

“You doesn’t make any sense, Bambi,” Newt slowly unattached his hand and grabbed his glass instead. The drink was the same colour as his hair – the warm golden mead. Thomas couldn’t stop looking. He wanted to touch it, to run his fingers through it, to remind himself how it felt. The previous line of thoughts disappeared somewhere, utterly abandoned, and he could only stare at the man.

“See something you like?” Newt smirked and Thomas only nodded lamely.

“Your hair,” he let out.

“My hair?”

“I want to touch it,” the brunet informed him dazedly and Newt snorted.

“You want to touch my hair?” he put the glass back on the counter, turning towards Thomas so they were face to face. “Why hair?”

“I dunno,” Thomas whined. “It’s just so… soft. I remember it soft. It was soft before.”

“You’re a mess.”

“Why hadn’t we even kissed?” another completely idiotic question came out, but Thomas just couldn’t stop his mouth. It was probably disconnected from his brain anyway, or the part responsible for normal thoughts drowned in alcohol (well, with the amount he consumed it maybe just paddled around, definitely not drowned).

“You want to kiss?” Newt cocked his head to the side, looking at him curiously, and Thomas nodded.

“I want to kiss. Or is it like Pretty Woman?”

Newt stopped for a while, his eyes confused until suddenly he started to laugh. His voice was amazing, Thomas thought. So sound and pleasing. He looked awesome when he laughed.

“You look awesome when you laugh.”

“Oh my god, you’re killing me,” Newt hiccupped, tears streaming down his face from the laughter. “Who would say you’re such an amusing drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” Thomas protested and his vision swam a little when he moved too fast. “Maybe just little.”

“Of course, my Edward Lewis,” Newt calmed down, even though chuckles were still escaping his lips occasionally. “You should try strawberries next time with your drink.”

“I knew you’d be Vivian!” Thomas pointed at him in victory and Newt caught his hand and dragged it low again.

“I see you’ve given it some thought before then,” he teased him and Thomas stared at their joined hands like in a trance.

“Touching,” he only said and Newt squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“That’s what people do.”

“You started to touch after the lunch,” Thomas realized in his alcohol-hazed mind. “You avoided touching me until then. But you started after the lunch. You hugged me today too.”

“I can stop if it bothers you,” Newt slowly eased his grip, but Thomas caught his hand again and squeezed it tighter.

“No.”

“No what?”

“Don’t stop touching me,” Thomas whispered. Newt was looking back at him, his eyes wide, and maybe a little afraid. Or maybe Thomas was just too drunk to be able to tell anymore. But his hand stayed and it was warm and comforting and Thomas wanted to _kiss_ him so badly it made him almost whimper again.

What kind of kisser could this man be? A passionate one? A slow, deliberate one? Shy? Wild? Demanding? Following? He couldn’t tell. But he wanted to. He craved to.

His lips were seductive. The shape, the colour, the small smirk that curled them now, corners lifting up, changing, always changing.

“Tommy?”

He heard his voice, but couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Enticing and so _kissable_.

“Are you waiting for permission?” Newt’s voice again and Thomas felt his head nodding lamely, still staring, and Newt’s lips widened in a grin until there was the one phrase Thomas wanted to hear:

“Go on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad, sorry!
> 
> Please don't kill me QQ  
> I'm happy I was able to finish the chapter, I had so much work today it was crazy! I stayed there until 5 QQ I'm usually leaving around 2 or 3, sigh. And I still didn't even finish all the stuff :(  
> Anyway! Yeah. So that happened. Sorry :D
> 
> Love you all for your comments and encouragment! You are amazing!  
> Also, my dear goldfish jarith - I hear you, dw about Minho! I'll make it right ;) Thank you again for your amazing comment <3


	11. A Straw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You say the sweetest things,” Newt cooed at him with a chuckle. “We’ll behave, I swear.”  
> “We will?” Thomas brain supplied questioningly and Gally snorted.  
> “As if your boy knows what behaving means.”

Heat was coming in waves. So many waves. Engulfing, consuming. Thomas held on, gripping the fabric in his hands like the most stabile support, and _dived in_. His body tingled; he felt it in the tips of his fingertips, in the ends of his hair, in the very deep core of his body. His stomach fluttered, jumped and kept on reminding him it’s _awesome_ , and _exciting_ , and _happening right now._

There was a faint burn of alcohol on the tip of his tongue, the strange bitter taste awakening his senses, but it played a small part in all the aspects that attacked his consciousness, if any at all.

They were kissing. _Thomas_ was kissing Newt, it was _him_ who lunged forward, who crashed their mouths together, who insistently begged for entrance, and Newt only supported him with one of his hands resting on Thomas’ waist, letting him rule the kiss without defiance, only humming in appreciation. The unspoken consent was making Thomas even more hungry, he _wanted_ and _needed_ to pull this person closer, tighter, to connect-

“If you’re planning on smooching like two lovesick teenagers, do it somewhere _away_ from my sight, thank you very much,” a voice pierced Thomas’ haze, but his mouth refused to understand and it was Newt who broke the kiss, distancing himself on an arm length, with a little breathless laugh. Thomas thought it was the most arousing thing he ever saw.

“Who would say you are such a touchy feely guy, Gally,” the blond aimed his remark towards the frowny bartender and Thomas had to remind himself they were in the NSA club, probably because Newt thought it was hilarious to bring Thomas back to the crime place.

The bartender, Gally, only grumbled something and pointed at the exit.

“As far as I’m concerned, I don’t need to watch this. So for both of our sakes, take it somewhere more comfortable, would you, Blondie.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Newt cooed at him with a chuckle. “We’ll behave, I swear.”

“We will?” Thomas brain supplied questioningly and Gally snorted.

“As if your boy knows what _behaving_ means.”

Newt smiled at Thomas, but it was less warm, less approachable, and the sudden change was so alien, that Thomas fell back to his chair, dumbfounded.

“Tommy is perfectly obedient, thank you very much,” Newt focused back at the bartender, his face breaking into a grin, and Gally rolled his eyes.

“The first one from all of them then,” he commented and nodded towards the empty glass. “One more?”

“Sure thing, big guy,” the blond agreed easily and at that point Thomas somewhat lost his ability to comprehend what was going on around him.

***

The clock was slow and teasing. Thomas stared at it for some time already, done with all the things he had to do, dealt with the calls and questions and explaining, and now he just sat there, staring at his clock, contemplating.

His head wasn’t as bad as he thought. It hurt a little, he wouldn’t lie, but he thought it would come with worse vengeance than just a minor headache.

The main thing remained - he was done and that meant Newt didn’t really need him anymore, not until the case moved again. And it was strange, Thomas mused. It was practically bizarre, because he did all those things, and then reported back to the blond, and all he got was _a thank you_ and _you’re great_ , and then Thomas left, because he didn’t have a reason to stay and Newt didn’t offer any. The blond just returned to his own work, typing something on his notebook, and it was cold and absolutely killed all the possible conversation, or at least an attempt of it, and Thomas felt lame and possibly like the worst person in the world as well, and just left him alone.

Just to be here. Alone. Staring at the clock.

So what exactly happened yesterday? The kiss was… it was… he couldn’t even put a finger on it. It was there, it was palpable. But somewhat far and… a little hazed maybe. But it happened, Thomas knew. They kissed and Newt was definitely warm and willing, but...

It changed something, right? Thomas knew it did. It made them… different. Somehow. As if the barrier got back up, stronger, and maybe made of bricks now, as if Newt cut him off again, not touching, not getting close, being friendly and polite to a certain degree.

Thomas hated it.

But he didn’t understand the reason why or how it happened. Yes, he was drunk. Yes, he was possibly very, very stupid, and maybe annoying. Was he too annoying? Did he bum Newt out somehow? Was he a bad kisser?

It got worse _after_ the kiss, didn’t it. So it meant the kiss was the problem. But Newt said _go on_. He gave him _consent_. He _didn’t mind_. Probably.

Or did he? Maybe he was just polite. Maybe it was a test? Kiss was, after all, something like… a proof? Or maybe it was just Thomas, he wasn’t sure, but he thought kissing was an affectionate thing to do, like, between people who liked each other, right?

He sighed and hid his face in his hands, defeated.

_We started all wrong. First sex, then a kiss, and now… back to pretending nothing happened?_

He just didn’t know what to think of it. Was it considered normal? Was this how gay people acted? Was Newt even gay? Maybe he was like Minho, _not picky_.

 _Why should a gender matter,_ Minho would say _. You like, then you like. How is a body more important than your own feelings?_

Of course, Newt told him he didn’t date. Maybe he gave in for a while, but then realized it was not what he wanted and just backed up? Or realized Thomas could have taken it as consent for a romance to progress, and that gave him a stop.

Or maybe the kiss just plainly sucked, since Thomas couldn’t say he really remembered it clearly enough to say how exactly it went (he remembered the heat and the nice, happy feelings that flowed through his body, but other than that… not really something he could point at and say: yes, that’s what I did wrong).

                Maybe Minho would be able to…

Thomas stopped the thought before it reached the normal proceedings and groaned. That’s right. Minho. He hadn’t talked to Minho since the scene in his office. They basically avoided each other. Or Minho avoided him, Thomas didn’t know – but he usually kept on meeting him during the day. He hadn’t until now, not even once.

Not even Teresa, now when he thought about it. Well, it wasn’t _that_ surprising. They were like one person at times, only separated by different bodies, but their minds usually worked the same. Not to mention both of them were huge gossipers, and what one knew the other quickly followed. Keeping secrets was a foreign term, and Thomas gave up any hope that his secret will stay safe from one of them if he told it to the other.

But now it was different. Strange. Weird. Unnatural. Hollow.

How long he knew Minho? For like… 6 years, at least? Or maybe more. They met at the college? It fitted the image. Minho was the guy everyone liked for some reason, even though all he cared about was sport and if his hair looked right from every angle. He mastered this thing through the years, it was like his signature.

But yeah, the college years, for some reason they ticked well together. Minho sucked with the history classes, as well as the literature stuff, and Thomas was the kind soul that felt like helping. So he did, and found out that under the irking, snarky, always-commenting-with-something-sarcastic guy was actually a pretty cool person. A loyal person, that for sure. Once they found out they are getting along more than just two random people with similar interests, it deepened and they sort of… bonded. Suddenly Minho wasn’t just “that guy I can talk to when I meet him”, but he became more, a support, the best friend, a family maybe. After the years it started to be a normal thing for them to spend a huge amount of time together, birthdays, even Christmas. Thomas’ parents loved Minho. Minho’s parents adored Thomas. They even got to the same company when they left the college, along with Teresa, and it was great.

Thomas stood up and set a goal in his mind – to chase Minho down.

***

It was terribly anticlimactic. The first place he tried – Minho’s office – was the place where he found the guy, sitting in his chair, apparently browsing the web. He skimmed towards Thomas for a brief moment before returning to the screen without interest.

Thomas remained silent, only looked around, checked for any apparent changes, found none, and approached the couch on which he promptly sat on.

They kept the silence for two minutes. Then Minho let out a long, exasperated sigh and closed the notebook with a loud bang.

“What,” he barked out and Thomas shrugged.

“Just thought I’ll stop by. See how you are and stuff,” Thomas said lightly and Minho glared at him.

“Is that so,” he gritted out and Thomas nodded. “Me and stuff are fine.”

“Do you and stuff want to go for lunch maybe?” Thomas offered, trying to keep his voice casual. There was one thing he learned with Minho over the years – begging for forgiveness wasn’t their style. So he avoided the topic, and approached it in circles, to lure better response from his friend at some point. Or at least he hoped for one.

“Oh? _Newt_ doesn’t have time for ya? Too busy fucking someone else?”

Thomas’ breath hitched and the _normal_ procedure crumbled into ashes. This wasn’t like Minho, to attack up front with such intensity. It was… discouraging. A cold wave came over Thomas, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine, taking words from his mouth like nothing else could.

“Just tell me what you want, Thomas,” Minho gave him a tired look and it made Thomas’ throat tighten.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Thomas said quietly. “I… just thought… I need to protect him.”

“From _me_?” Minho barked out a laugh. “Oh, right, cuz I’m a _blabbermouth_. And would run around the whole fucking building, telling everyone you two fucked, because _everyone_ cares here about your fucking sex life.”

“That’s not fair,” Thomas managed. He felt sick just from listening to it.

“No, _you_ are not fair, buddy. Cuz this is just… just…” Minho stopped with the wide gestures, he even stood up during the speech, and suddenly he faltered a little, his shoulders dropped. “You just do this _all the time_. I don’t even know you anymore. We stopped talking like we used to. You… distanced. Like as if we bother you with _caring_. So maybe it’s just the right time to stop caring as you did.”

“What- that-oh my god, Minho,” Thomas stood up as well, his body trembling. This was like a nightmare.

“Well, why did you come here? Cuz you have a problem, right? I don’t even remember the last time you came here only _because_. Or when was the last time you actually asked if there is something that bothers _me_ as well?” Minho shot back at him. “Or Tesa on that matter. She’s your fucking childhood friend, and you basically cut her out of your life.”

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Did he really do that? Was this what Minho and Teresa were getting from him? That he didn’t care? When had he started to take this… certainty of someone being there for him for granted? When was actually the last time he told Minho he’s a great friend and he appreciates him being there for him? He was good at taking. But he sucked at giving back. And yet Minho stayed, always remained at his side, helping, jabbing, making comments, but meaning well, always meaning the best for him.

And Thomas stopped sharing things with him as a response.

The thing with Newt must have been the last straw. Because Minho felt like it was important, that it was big for Thomas, therefore it was also big for him. But Thomas hadn’t told him. And he intended to keep it secret until it was too late.

“Minho, please,” he whispered, his hands cold like ice, heart beating as if it wanted to jump out and run away.

“What’s my favourite colour?” Minho asked suddenly, his eyes hard and unforgiving, and Thomas held a sob that was trying to crawl out and break his last ounce of self-control.

“Dark green,” he forced out.

“Movie?” another question.

“Blade Runner…”

“Food.”

“Meat balls, what’s this about?” Thomas asked in a hopeless voice, but Minho didn’t answer. He looked thoughtful for a while, and then crossed his arms on his chest.

“Who did I date last?” he asked next and Thomas blinked in surprise, watching him in confusion.

“I… don’t know?”

“And that’s the problem,” Minho relaxed his posture and even that Thomas wanted to take it as a good sign, it didn’t work that way for him.

“That I don’t know who you dated before?” he didn’t understand the implication and Minho gave him a sad smile.

“That you don’t care enough to ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad, sorry!
> 
> I'm terribly, terribly sorry for this chapter. I swear I'll make it better QQ Please don't hit me QQ
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments and suggestions, Ily! <3
> 
> An awesome song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRYgc2BHccA for this chapter, suggested by sheerams! Thank you so much, hun, it fits perfectly and you are amazing! <3


	12. A Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I still can’t believe it,” she said between bites. “You and Shark, that’s unreal.”  
> “It’s not like it’s progressing anyhow,” Thomas replied sullenly.  
> “But you’d like if it did,” she pointed a fork at him and Thomas sighed.  
> “He made it clear,” he just said. “No dating.”  
> “No dating,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Good. Imagine how dating this guy would go. Sleeping around with other people, then coming home for dinner with hickeys, ew.”

Thomas was a master in moping. He could have been crowned a king for that, after all those breakups that made him sad and feeling shitty, like the lowest person in the universe. It was never pleasant, but he wasn’t alone for it.

                Now it grew in intensity and he couldn’t ask for anyone’s help. It was painful and hollow, but deserved. He wasn’t selfish enough to search for fault in others, he knew it was all his responsibility (even though a small part of him kept on screaming _he_ wasn’t alone at fault in this mess, that Minho wasn’t perfect either, that sometimes his nosiness was too much and Thomas felt he needed to be left alone, that he wanted at least some secrets to keep to himself, untouched), and it all fell on him like ton of bricks. He had left Minho’s office with a heavy weight in his stomach and dread gripping his insides like a cold hand, because all words died in his throat. He wanted to make it better, to explain maybe, but nothing came, only regret.

He went straight home. He didn’t even think of trying talk to Newt at that point, even though his office was _right there_ , he just took his keys and left the building, barricading himself in his flat and wept.

                It was like losing an important part of himself, a limb that helped him move. All his senses were dulled and shut down, only strange ache stayed, making his brain working in a never-ending loop. He sat on his couch, legs drawn under his chin, staring blankly at one spot. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, there were so many things his brain analysed – what he could do better, different, and how he could prevent it.

                It was too late. But it didn’t stop him from thinking about it.

He ignored his phone. He ignored e-mails. There was also a door bell ringing. He just didn’t want to deal with anyone, he needed this time to put himself back together, at least to the point he could function enough for work, if not for being sociable.

“My god, you lazy ass, you can’t even come and open the door for me?” Teresa’s voice made him flinch, because suddenly it was close and _there_ , and when he made himself focus again, she was standing in the middle of his living room, shrugging down her red coat, looking at him accusingly.

“What are you doing here?” he let out with wide eyes and she irked an eyebrow.

“What kind of idiotic question is that? It’s Friday, of course I’m here,” she informed him sternly, hanging the coat over the chair. “I bought chicken, would you put it in the oven and all? I need to make few calls before… why are you staring at me like this?”

“Minho hadn’t told you?”

“Told me what?” she crossed her arms on her chest. “He had some more stuff to do and I’m already starving.”

Thomas didn’t understand. Teresa and Minho were like one mind, there was no way he wouldn’t tell her. But then again, why would he want to ruin a day with such depressing information, right? Not his style at all.

He stood up, taking the chicken from her and started preparing it like a robot, not even paying enough attention. His mind was reeling as he watched Teresa by the corner of his eye, how she made herself comfortable at the spot on the couch Thomas just left empty.

“So what’s this about?” she asked while she took her phone out of the handbag, fiddling with it.

“We broke up,” Thomas mumbled and looked back to the food, his mind darkening.

“With…?”

“Minho.”

“You were dating Minho?” she sputtered. “Why hadn’t I known about that?!”

“Are you daft?” Thomas gave her an unamused look. “I meant we… are not talking anymore.”

“What do you mean _not talking anymore_?” she snorted. “As if that was ever possible.”

“It’s because of Ne… because of Isaac,” he said tiredly. “I think it was the last straw and… Minho just gave up. He said… stuff. I know I’m a bad friend, so in the end it’s not really a wonder he just got fed up.”

“You are a terrible friend,” Teresa shrugged. “You’re giving me the most terrible presents ever. I can’t believe the bra you gave me is still-wait, you are serious?”

She stared at him with wide eyes and Thomas just nodded quietly, not trusting himself to speak.

“Thomas, you big idiot, you’re not a bad friend,” she sighed and stood up as well, approaching him slowly. “Why would you think you are?”

“I don’t even remember the last time I actually asked either of you how was your day or who was the last person you dated with, or…”

“So what?” she gave him a reprimanding look. “Is that a crime now? Parroting every day the same stupid phrase? How was your day? How was your day? How was your day?”

“You know it’s not about this-,”

“Tom,” she sighed, pulling him close to her by his waist, sliding her arm around it. “Do you think forcing yourself acting like this would be better? We know you care, geez. Of course you do. Forcing a behaviour you don’t feel like it’s you is atrocious.”

“Well, yes, but-,”

“Each of us is an individual,” she cut him off. “I never ask for people’s day. It’s annoying. Not just for me, but for others as well, an empty phrase. So why bother? To get a _good, you_? I hate that. Or when someone ask _how are you_ as an opening to a conversation. It’s like telling you about weather. Stupid and useless. When you want something, you talk to them. When you have nothing to say, you stay quiet, not filling the silence with useless trash talk. When you care about people, you don’t need empty gestures, you prove it with random acts, a support when it’s needed, a thank you or congratulations.”

Thomas took a deep breath and she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“So why exactly this happened?” she asked gently and Thomas lowered his head.

“He found out that Isaac is the…”

“The?”

“The guy from Saturday,” he finished it unhappily and Teresa froze for a moment. He expected an explosion and cringed in advance, but she didn’t really move.

“Oh,” she let out. “That explains a lot actually. I thought you were acting strange around him, I thought…”

“I didn’t want to tell anyone,” Thomas tried to explain before Teresa jumped to the same conclusion as Minho. “I… wanted to protect him. As well as me, I suppose. Just… something I wasn’t keen on sharing, but…”

“No, I get it,” she surprised him. “I wouldn’t tell anyone either. Too embarrassing I suppose. Man, but with this guy, really? And you liked him?”

“He’s pretty laid-back,” he pointed out. “Not a bad person at all.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” she smirked, but definitely thought her own unflattering version, judging from her expression.

“It made Minho angry,” Thomas muttered. “Lots of things made him angry, actually. I wanted to explain, but… he was right, and. I know I suck, and I hadn’t appreciated you enough, if ever, it just escalated so suddenly and I left his office and it was like… the end, you know?”

“Nonsense,” she patted his head in consolation. “Minho won’t last a day without teasing you. It’s his essence of life.”

“This is not just… stuff that you can mend by a few days silence. It was serious,” he sighed. “He was just so… disappointed.”

Teresa hummed and Thomas steeled himself for a verdict. She had to have some, even though she seemed strangely calm all this time.

“Cook the chicken,” she said. “I’m hungry.”

“Peel the potatoes,” he shot back at her and she made a face.

“I’m not your slave!”

“Neither I’m yours,” he didn’t let her and she stuck her tongue at him.

***

Thomas put the plate towards Teresa and she smiled at it happily (not at him, he noted, the food apparently made itself), digging into it with gusto.

“I still can’t believe it,” she said between bites. “You and Shark, that’s unreal.”

“It’s not like it’s progressing anyhow,” Thomas replied sullenly.

“But you’d like if it did,” she pointed a fork at him and Thomas sighed.

“He made it clear,” he just said. “No dating.”

“No dating,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Good. Imagine how dating this guy would go. Sleeping around with other people, then coming home for dinner with hickeys, ew.”

“You don’t know that,” Thomas muttered.

“I don’t,” she shrugged. “But he gives that unstable vibe.”

“ _Unstable_?” Thomas raised an eyebrow and she shrugged while gulping down another mouthful.

“Like… not unfaithful, just not able to be satisfied with only one person,” she suggested. “Like Minho. Searching, testing. Getting bored with the stereotype. Moving on. Based on his flirty attitude I guess. All that flaunting around.”

“Who, Minho or Newt?”

“Newt?” she repeated incredulously a Thomas waved his hand.

“Isaac,” he corrected himself and she gave him an unamused look.

“Both,” she uttered then. “They are both like two whores.”

“Can you call it somewhat… better?”

“Night companions?” she offered and Thomas gave up.

“So you already asked if he’d date you?” she asked curiously, watching him from under black eyelashes.

“Not really,” he mumbled. “We just… circled around the topic and he told me up front he would tell me no if I ever asked.”

“Sounds like _issueeees_ ,” she leered and Thomas grumbled.

“Look, if he’s like that, it’s for the best. You had good sex; at least I assume it was good based on your reactions. He doesn’t like commitment, you are heterosexual, so it all worked out. Call it a fling. Or an experiment. You enjoyed your little adventure, but got put back on your place,” she mused. “Not to mention having a relationship at work can suck. You would break up and then what? Working with each other would be like from a stupid soap opera.”

“Thanks for the summary,” he piped. There was truth behind her words, a logic that was sound, Thomas agreed. But it still made him unsated, and nervous, and probably also defiant.

_Well, the kiss killed it anyway, so there is nothing much to do about it now._

He took his fork, ready to start eating as well when the doorbell rang once more, making him groan.

“What’s wrong with people today?” he growled, rising up. Teresa snorted, but didn’t even stop eating.

Thomas hadn’t been in a good mood, although Teresa’s presence helped. She was jabbing and sarcastic, but her attitude eased the pressure a little. But dealing with another problem that apparently stood at his doorstep made him feel fed up already.

He opened the door without looking and froze mid move.

“I smell chicken,” Minho sniffled. “What a coincidence you’re cooking just when I arrived.”

Thomas felt like crying, but he decided to hug the man instead.

***

“You had him on the phone the whole time you were here?” Thomas’ jaw dropped and Teresa checked her phone with a fake _oops_ on her face. No one believed her, but she did it anyway.

“She’s my agent, why are you so surprised?” Minho stole the plate with Thomas’ food and started eating without asking. “Not to mention she is the best for questioning.”

“Not to mention Minho is an ass at times,” Teresa added, giving the Asian a strange look. “Even though he had a point with stuff, there is no use in making you feel like trash because he can’t deal, or open his stupid mouth _before_ and say what’s wrong.”

“Hey,” Minho frowned at her unhappily.

“Don’t _hey_ me. You made him depressed because he didn’t tell you a thing he wanted to keep secret from _everyone_. Just wake up, Min. You’re not his chaperone, he is ought to have secrets.”

“We went through this already,” Minho grumbled. “It’s not about the guy.”

“Well, it made you snap, so maybe it is about the guy,” she countered.

“Maybe we should just eat,” Thomas piped between them, feeling like on a battlefield, and thankfully it worked. Minho stuffed his mouth full of mashed potatoes and Teresa’s face adopted a victorious smirk.

Thomas still counted it as a win. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad, sorry!
> 
> I'm sorry for the absense of Newt in here, but I swear the next chapter is right back on the track. This problem needed to be dealt with :) Thank you for your patience! <3


	13. A Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You will go,” Newt repeated, and he sounded a little surprised. “Just like that?”  
> “Is there a rite I need to go through before I give my consent?” the brunet eyed him in amusement, but Newt’s expression didn’t change when looking back at him – as if he was trying to solve him like a million-pieced puzzle.  
> “Not really,” he responded after a moment. “I just thought…”  
> “Thought?”  
> “That you won’t,” Newt ended the sentence slowly.

“Please, don’t ask me about my day, ever.”

Thomas blinked in surprise when Minho informed him in front of the elevator, but the smug smile Teresa had on her face explained everything. On the Monday morning it was a deadly combination.

“She had asked me for twenty times by now.”

“I thought that’s what friends do,” she parroted him and Minho only grumbled something incoherent. Thomas rather stayed silent.

That stance worked for him the whole ride as well; only listening to their bickering was enough of a lecture for him. His attention was swayed once the door opened though, because there was Newt calling someone, standing in the hallway with his arms crossed and expression worried. He noticed the two of his companions froze at the display for a second and then passing as if nothing happened, not even giving Thomas meaningful looks, which he was grateful for. They nodded towards the blond for a greeting though, and he nodded back, giving them his business smile before returning to the call.

Thomas contemplated to ride back for a moment, and return 10 minutes later to avoid the meeting, but his consciousness kicked him out of the elevator and something suspiciously similar to Minho’s voice told him to “man up” (something even more similar shouted stuff about lemons, but he batted it away).

So he did, chin held high, straightened his back, and marched on. When he passed around Newt he nodded like the two previous _co-workers_ , even offered a slight smile (keeping it friendly, not too happy, not too forced, just like _hey partner, just passing through, don’t let me bother you_ ) and Newt nodded again before he realized who was he looking at and his hand shot forward, catching Thomas’ arm and gently pulling him back.

“Come to my office in five, please,” he informed him while covering the phone, as if a deadline was set and he needed to deliver the judgement. Thomas felt like under a death sentence and managed only to nod.

Newt returned to his phone call and Thomas wobbled to his office like half paralyzed victim of war. There must have been new materials for the case, something worth going through, or maybe he needed to inform Thomas about the progress, Thomas was aware, but his whole body felt like on fire and spasm at the same time.

The drunken kiss kept on replaying in his head like a broken record, or at least the hazed version of it, and he just couldn’t tell. Was it about that? Maybe Newt wanted to put him back on his place, to tell him how exactly they stand now, that it was off limits, a mistake. Well, maybe it was. Maybe Thomas just needed this, to see with his own eyes it wasn’t worth trying.

After all, Newt acted like he regretted it after, right? All guarded and suddenly far again, not touching at all. Thomas couldn’t put a finger on it, if there was any reason, it stayed in the shadows. So he took off his coat, breathed deeply to steel himself, paced few times around his office, and then finally went out. Each step towards Newt’s place made him waver slightly, until he finally stood in front of the doors, knocking carefully, gulping down the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, and entered.

Newt was bending over his table, writing something down on a big arch of paper, and when Thomas appeared in the doorway, he stopped and straightened up. No smile, no happy greeting.

_That’s bad._

“Hey,” Thomas croaked out, closing door behind him and fidgeting on the place. “Something’s the matter?”

“There is a new _participant_ ,” Newt pulled out a stack of papers from the pile that rested on his desk and handed it to Thomas.  His tone was cold. “But it’s complicated. She’s a total bitch, that’s what she is. I’ve been dealing with it since Friday and let me tell you, no one can get this annoying over time, she had to be born with it.”

“Oh,” Thomas voiced lamely, taking the papers slowly. Thomas didn’t know, Friday flew over his head like a pursuit plane, not to mention he left super early as well. If Newt was trying to get in touch with him, he must have encountered only an empty office.

“The bad thing is _we_ have to deal with her,” Newt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seemed genuinely upset. “Or… me. Not you. Not if you don’t want to, of course. It’s my responsibility after all. I don’t want to force you into such shitty stuff, she’s really… something.”

“Ava Paige?” Thomas read from the paper and his eyebrows shot high up. “You mean… the CEO of WD?”

“The one and only,” Newt nodded unhappily. “She is sort of crucial, but dealing with her is a pain in the ass. There is also Janson, and I’d rather deal with that psycho, but she _insisted_ looking into this matter _personally_. He may come too, I don’t know if you’re familiar with that guy, but it may help us a bit if he did. To keep her on the leash.”

“Is he also an executive?” Thomas listed through the papers, but found nothing about the man. He knew WD only marginally, from the mentioning here and there, but never actually dealt with them. He knew the organization was big – bigger than The Runner, and now probably the same size after they merged with The Maze. Ava Paige led the organization for _years_ , but the information about her was always scarce and probably also a bit farfetched.

“He’s a CFO,” Newt said with a sigh. “Or at least he used to be. The inner matters of WD were… always kind of shady.”

“I see.”

Thomas looked through the papers for a bit longer until the silence finally alerted him that an answer was expected, and he quickly looked up, finding Newt watching him curiously.

“Oh, right, yes, I’ll help of course,” he stuttered out quickly and Newt chuckled.

“You’re already helping, I was more curious about… your presence. At the meeting with her,” he gestured towards the papers Thomas held. “Because it’s not mandatory. You don’t need to be there. It’s only if you want to.”

“It’s fine,” Thomas assured him. “I’ll go.”

“You will go,” Newt repeated, and he sounded a little surprised. “Just like that?”

“Is there a rite I need to go through before I give my consent?” the brunet eyed him in amusement, but Newt’s expression didn’t change when looking back at him – as if he was trying to solve him like a million-pieced puzzle.

“Not really,” he responded after a moment. “I just thought…”

“Thought?”

“That you won’t,” Newt ended the sentence slowly.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Thomas blinked in surprise and Newt averted his eyes, suddenly looking a little unsure. It didn’t suit him at all.

“It’s Ava Paige after all,” he said after a moment. “But thank you.”

“No problem,” Thomas shrugged. Ava didn’t really bother him, at least not yet. He never talked to her, so her persona meant nothing, definitely not fear or nervousness. “At least I can provide some moral support, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Newt agreed with a little easier smile than before. “I haven’t scheduled the meeting yet, but I thought tomorrow or the day after would be the best. She wanted to meet today, but I thought it’s too rushed since I just told you, so I turned her down.”

“I don’t mind either way,” Thomas offered, his body slowly relaxing. Talking about work was easy. No need to get awkward the first thing in the morning, right? “Just give me a call before and it’s all good.”

“Amazing. So tomorrow then, at 10 AM,” Newt concluded, opening his diary and writing the date and time down.

“Noted,” Thomas nodded. It felt strange though, he mused. Like if there was static in the air, charging the atmosphere with strange anticipation. As if something was missing, something needed to be said or done, he wasn’t sure. He watched the blond making small notes at the page and then preparing the needed materials, and he wondered how they even got there. He couldn’t decide what was the best approach now, how he should talk to the man, how to act. Should he mention the kiss? Or stay quiet about it? Should he leave him alone? Newt definitely acted as if the night got forgotten.

“About Thursday…” he started, unsure, and Newt raised his head in question. There was this uneasiness in Thomas’ stomach, something keen on being unhappy about an unresolved issue. He hated being in the middle of a problem that hanged in the air like stinky feet.

“What about it?” Newt asked, looking at the brunet in confusion.

 _The kiss_ , Thomas wanted to say. He wanted to ask, not pushing or anything, just… ask. But the first thing he imagined was how Newt’s expression would falter and darken, and it felt wrong. He scrambled for a well mentioned remark, but nothing good came to mind, until he blurted the only thing that made at least a bit of sense in the mash of his thoughts. “I’m sorry I got drunk.”

“It’s fine,” Newt said simply. “You were a happy drunk.”

“I have a low tolerance for alcohol,” Thomas supplied and Newt gave him a little smile.

“I noticed.”

“I… didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Thomas tried a little different approach. “I know you said you’re not interested and all and I was all over you and I seriously apologize for the lack of control, it was-,”

“It’s really fine, Tommy,” Newt stopped him. And there it was – the _look_. Thomas couldn’t help but associate it with _please stop talking already_ , so he promptly did and nodded only. After all, it was all he needed – to be put back on his rightful place. It made him breathe a little easier.

“Good,” he said only and managed a smile. “I’ll be in my office if anything. Mostly making calls, I’ll let you know if something comes up. Some stuff with the court got a little tipsy, so it may need you to look at it later.”

Newt watched him without a word, a little warily, but then finally nodded in understanding.

“If not, well, will see you tomorrow,” Thomas added and waved with the papers. “Gonna study this as well. So busy right on Monday, gotta love it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Newt uttered only and it was Thomas’ cue to leave.

It was easier than he expected.

***

“This amount of sass would kill anyone, let me tell you,” Minho pointed at the screen cap with a grin and Thomas snorted, batting his hand away.

“Just let me read it, you immense prick.”

He couldn’t even say how happy he was with Minho back on the talking track. They had a long, looong conversation over Friday, even Saturday. It included some shouting (Minho), some wild gesturing (Thomas) and lots of laughing after (both), but the main thing stayed. Thomas apologized, profusely. He considered more extreme options, but Minho wasn’t an idiot. They weren’t without faults, either of them. Talking about those things made them see and understand, but they both decided that changing anything about the other is an utter nonsense, even though it may get tiresome. But Thomas was aware now. He knew and he was keen on making an effort and Minho apparently appreciated it (more than he let on, but Thomas knew him better).

“We should go for lunch tomorrow. Take Teresa and make a scene. I’m sure the waitresses miss us already,” Minho suggested with a grin and Thomas rolled his eyes. They made _a scene_ only once in there, but since the moment they attempted to replay it for amusement, and the staff of the restaurant already remembered them.

“Would be cool, but I have no idea when we’re going to be back,” Thomas sighed and Minho raised an eyebrow.

“We?”

“Me and _Isaac_ ,” Thomas shrugged. “There is this case meeting with Ava Paige scheduled.”

“That guy is tak- what?” Minho stopped in the middle of his sentence with wide eyes and jaw wide open. “Fucking Ava Paige from WD?”

“Yep,” Thomas nodded. “Apparently a big animal in these waters?”

“She is _the queen_ of these waters, mate,” Minho informed him in awe. “Like… Meryl Streep in Devil wears Prada, god. Why didn't I know about it?”

“Ask Isaac,” Thomas shrugged again. “He told me this morning that she demanded a participation in the case, to look into it personally. So we’re going to talk to her.”

“Wowowowow,” Minho let out. “Are you nervous? You should be terrified. Be terrified. Weep in the corner! Even Isaac is crying now, I’m sure.”

“She can’t be _that bad_ ,” Thomas rolled his eyes, but Minho wiggled his eyebrows and Thomas rather let it be. He refused to be nervous. And definitely refused to look her up and watch vids with her like a stalker. That was Teresa’s style after all.

***

The day progressed slowly, but surely, and Thomas found himself buried in work. Calling, writing, e-mailing, it made him busier than he expected and suddenly the clock showed 3 PM and he was only halfway done with it all. There were e-mails piling up, but he didn’t have time to read any of them (it was Teresa anyway, she found a website full of stupid jokes and kept on sending it to him in attempt to make him laugh so loud she would hear him in her own office. It was a goal of hers for some time, so far unsuccessful).

When he was reaching the end of the first pile, a sharp knock on his door pulled him out of the focus, but before he could even invite that someone in, the door opened, revealing Newt in them. He was frowning, his posture a little tense, and Thomas feared the case got worse and he came to tell him about another terrible meeting, probably with Satan himself, judging from the expression.

“Wow, what happened?” he blinked in surprise when Newt stopped between the door, and his expression darkened even further.

“You are here,” the blond said, and it sounded strange, maybe sort of accusing, Thomas couldn’t say.

“Yes?” he supplied, probably unhelpfully, but it was the only thing he could answer with. Newt closed the door behind him, pointing at the PC.

“You haven’t answered the e-mail.”

“Oh,” Thomas looked at his filled page of Teresa’s spam and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, was busy. And Teresa is spamming my mail box, I must have missed it. Something important?”

“I don’t know,” Newt grumbled and his steps brought him closer to Thomas’ table. “I have no bloody idea. It’s your fault and I’m pissed off, but I just don’t know.”

“I… what?” Thomas froze, staring at the blond in shock. “My fault?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Newt hissed, and when he reached the table he leaned over it, closer to Thomas, and it was strange, dangerous even, and the air was almost cracking around them, and Thomas just didn’t _understand_ what was going on.

His heart almost stopped when Newt’s hand suddenly gripped his shirt and pulled him up, papers went flying all around from the sudden movement, his mug probably also crashed on the ground because he knocked it over, and it all didn’t matter because Newt was suddenly kissing him.

It was an angry kiss, Thomas noted. It definitely wasn’t like on Thursday, with him being almost passive – not at all. It was dominant, overpowering, hungry and breath-taking. He was kissing Thomas as if he was punishing him, his lips insisting, biting, and bruising, making Thomas whimper, his head spin. His mouth was hot and Thomas found himself responding fervently, leaning over the table and hating the obstacle that kept him apart, but Newt apparently didn’t care because his hand slid from Thomas shirt to the back of his neck and then reached higher, gripping his hair and pulled him closer. It made Thomas to put one of his knees on the desk, leaning over it with strange noises emitting from his throat, and his body was on fire.

“Your bloody fault,” Newt hissed when he pulled back an inch, staring at Thomas’ lips hungrily. “You are pissing me off.”

“You already said that,” Thomas responded boldly, and he barely heard himself over the sound of his heart hammering its way out of his rib cage. “What else is new?”

“Bloody hate you,” Newt growled. “So, _so much_.”

“Is that-mffph.”

At that point all rational thoughts vanished like an aurora with the first sun beam and Thomas was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Okay, um. Yeah. So that happened. Lalalala, the weekend is here, and I swear I'm not doing this on purpose!  
> I'll see you all on Monday again, hopefully :) Have a great weekend! <3 (please don't kill me, I know I suck :(


	14. A Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What have you done?” Newt finally spoke up, his eyes narrowed, and it felt accusing, like an interrogation, and he reminded Thomas of a judge, all strict and unforgiving.   
> “I haven’t really done anything,” Thomas replied honestly. Newt’s hand on his chest was warm, hot even, burning through his shirt.   
> “No, I’m pretty certain you have,” the blond opposed. “Being all… all you. So bloody above all this.”

There was nothing Thomas could say about the current situation. Nothing that would make sense at least. He didn’t even wonder how exactly he managed to get to this current position, basically lying on his back on the table with Newt in between his thighs, bending over him and _ravishing_ him thoroughly. They kissed, and kissed, and _kissed_ for what felt like hours, tongues battling, breaths hitching, and Thomas didn’t even care something kept on digging to his back, nor he cared the air supply got dangerously low at moments before Newt let go for a second, biting his lower lip as if out of spite, letting both of them gulp down the air, before diving back in, capturing Thomas mouth in another French lesson.

He hadn’t really touched him any other way. His hands didn’t roam; they stayed at Thomas’ neck, only his thumbs occasionally caressed his jaw or the sides of his throat, and yet the whole exchange felt strangely erotic and arousing, as if the kiss turned into the main act, intertwining them more and deeper.

If Thomas’ senses worked, he would probably be worried about the possibility of someone walking on them with his moans echoing the office, but his mind was offline and he couldn’t _think_ , not to mention to be actually _worried_.

Newt was an aggressive kisser. He didn’t have mercy, and he was definitely in control, leading Thomas through it all, not letting him to take over. Kissing him back was amazing, Thomas noted to himself. It was different from Thursday, more passionate, almost primal, and yet controlled at some strange sense of Newt knowing very well what he was doing. Just the simple fact he managed to get Thomas on his back so easily without actually _pushing_ him or making advances – only by a simple thing like a kiss – was enough for the brunet to know this was Newt’s influence, Newt’s strange power over him.

When they parted again for air, Thomas couldn’t help but stare at the blond leaning above him, his eyes raking over his features – the darkened eyes, the bruised red lips, the bizarre expression of someone who was torn between an utter disbelief and a complete acceptance. Thomas stayed lying down, just looking up dazedly, and Newt frowned, staring back at him. Their position was suggestive and open, surely even Newt saw that, but neither of them made a move against or towards it. They just stayed like that, watching each other, trying to understand.

Thomas knew he needed a manual for this man, at least a short one, with the basic information. What exactly he should think now, he wondered. This kiss wasn’t like “ _hey, let me try it_ ”, it was raw and hungry, and it was Newt who initiated it. So why? What made him lose control like this?

He couldn’t even say he was surprised when Newt straightened back up, his hands letting go, the frown on his face only deepened. Thomas tried to sit up at least, to bring some seriousness into the situation (even though he knew he had to look like someone who was sexed up to the max, he could feel it, his body tingled and lips felt raw, but it was okay, fine, amazing), but when he made a move, Newt’s hand shot back to him, sprawling against his chest and pushing him back down, holding him there.

“Newt-,”

“Shut up,” the blond hissed and Thomas fell silent. He seemed like he was trying to decide, as if he couldn’t reach a compromise or any kind of decision that would please him, so Thomas let him, surprised by his own strange calmness that engulfed him. He was confused by Newt, he had always been. It was sort of relief to know he wasn’t alone who fell into the maze of uncertainty with somebody.

“What have you done?” Newt finally spoke up, his eyes narrowed, and it felt accusing, like an interrogation, and he reminded Thomas of a judge, all strict and unforgiving.

“I haven’t really done anything,” Thomas replied honestly. Newt’s hand on his chest was warm, hot even, burning through his shirt.

“No, I’m pretty certain you have,” the blond opposed. “Being all… all _you_. So bloody above all this.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m _under_ all this at the moment,” Thomas risked it, earning a snarl in return. It was like having a wild animal above him, he expected claws in his chest soon.

“Very funny,” Newt uttered instead, but his hand pressed a little stronger now.

“I try,” Thomas shrugged, and knew he earned that eye roll that came his way. The hand disappeared from his chest and Newt finally took a step back, _glaring_ at Thomas as if he murdered somebody.

“Read your e-mails next time,” he pointed at Thomas’ computer and Thomas had to hold himself from not laughing.

“Or you’ll come and kiss the misbehaving out of me? I can think of worse consequences,” he couldn’t help himself and Newt crossed his arms on his chest defensively.

“ _This_ ,” he bit out as if it offended him. “Was an exception.”

“Alright,” Thomas said. It sounded ridiculous, as if he was dealing with a kid, but he decided not to fight it now. Waiting until Newt was sure what he wanted seemed like a better option. Not to mention seeing him so out of his normal professional self was something to behold (getting all ridiculously unreasonable, it was definitely worth it).

He sat back up slowly and when Newt didn’t make any move against it, he slid down the table and straightened his shirt back to the presentable shape. Newt kept on watching him and it was strange, but also amusing, even though it apparently pissed Newt off majorly.

“So… except ravishing me, did you need anything else?” Thomas asked in a sweet voice, making Newt growl in frustration. 

“Send me the results,” Newt uttered. “From the court calls.”

“Sure thing,” Thomas nodded. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” the blond bit out and turned to leave, just to stop after one step, turning back, and all Thomas could think before he got suddenly kissed again was: _adorable_.

***

“I heard you got dumped, what’s that stupid smile for?”

Thomas blinked few times and glanced at Aris standing next to him, slurping his coffee, his expression curious.

“You two made up?” the younger lawyer guessed and it took a moment for Thomas to comprehend what the man was saying.

“You mean with Brenda?” he quickly returned to the present, trying to repress all those vivid memories of Newt pressing against him deliciously, kissing him as if he couldn’t get enough, until Thomas wanted to pull him closer. Once his hand touched Newt’s waist, the blond jerked back and finally left the office with troubled expression on his face ( _adorable, so, so adorable_ ), leaving Thomas standing there like a tit (but an idiotic one, he could see the _stupid smile_ Aris commented on clearly in his head), until he decided he needed a coffee if he was supposed to work through the rest of the day without daydreaming.

“Yup,” Aris nodded and Thomas had to hold himself from laughing. How long was it from his breakup with Brenda? A month? Month something? Suddenly he couldn’t tell. The thought of her barely crossed his mind (or better – it never did since the Saturday night with Newt), it almost felt like _years_ ago. He hadn’t seen her since either, their communication got completely severed.

“No, we haven’t,” he replied truthfully. “Haven’t seen her over a month.”

“Someone new then,” Aris leered. “Do tell!”

“No one new,” the brunet sighed. He wasn’t even lying. He couldn’t deny his interest in Newt, he would be a hypocrite if he did, but it was… _complicated_. He couldn’t even say what it meant for either of them. Newt told him there was never going to be anything between them. Then suddenly kissed him like a starving man, like someone who _craved_ the contact the whole day and reached his peak of tolerance. It was strange, Thomas admitted. Strange, and hot, and maybe also a little unnerving.

It was easier when he thought Newt simply wasn’t interested. That he probably just did those one night stands, and maybe would be willing to play a fuckbuddy part (something Thomas wasn’t keen on, and he probably never would be – a fuck buddy entailed no deeper feelings than attraction and mutual _helping each other out when needed_. Thomas _needed_ a connection, and when the other wasn’t willing to provide one, to establish something similar to it, it just _wasn’t enough_. For how much he thought of Newt being _hot_ , it just didn’t feel right without participation from the both sides. Let’s call him old fashioned, but he couldn’t help it).

It gave him a pause at times though. Newt was a man, no doubt about it. Thomas never strived for being bi-curious, but suddenly it was alright. He didn’t even think it was strange anymore. He accepted it so easily it made him think _how_ it was possible. _How_ Newt managed that. Thinking of any other guy to take his place didn’t feel right. And Thomas tried it, just as an experiment, to watch men and think of them like he thought of Newt and it didn’t work. Zero attraction, nothing.

“Liar,” Aris chuckled. “You looked like you just had a birthday sex. Oh wait, your b-day was few days ago, right? Did you have the b-day sex?”

“Since you didn’t show up, with whom would I have it?” Thomas snorted and Aris make a choking noise before flipping him off and returning to his coffee.

“I can always ask Minho, you know,” the young man pointed out grudgingly. “He’s a chicken wuss, he’ll spill the beans.”

“You can try,” Thomas shrugged. He doubted very much Minho would say a thing about Thomas sleeping with a man, or Newt being that guy. What he didn’t doubt though was Minho spilling the fact they gave him the one night stand with Teresa. It was something he would be proud of, Thomas thought. Grinning wickedly while telling that, that was so like him.

“You’re so unhelpful,” Aris sighed in defeat.

***

“What are you smiling about?” Teresa raised an eyebrow at him and Thomas glanced at her from his food, enjoying the taste of his steak. He missed the lunch, so when she appeared in his office with two boxes and amazing almost-dinner steaks, he didn’t say no. She didn’t manage to get Minho to join them, but Thomas was still satisfied.

The sudden remark caught him off guard, so he stared at her without a word for a tad longer than she thought bearable, since her face caught that suspicious expression.

“What happened?” she asked incredulously, putting away her fork, leaning a bit forward. “Did Minho tell you about the surprise?”

“A surprise?” he blinked and she hissed to herself.

“No surprise,” she uttered. “Eat your food.”

“What surprise?” he insisted, a little thankful that thing with smiling got forgotten. “You started it, so finish it.”

“No,” she refused him with a defiant expression. “How’s your steak? Mine is kinda too raw.”

“You like when the stuff gets bloody, of course it is,” he grinned at her, seriously enjoying having an upper hand for a change. “So the surprise…”

“There is no surprise,” she grumbled.

“I’ll ask Minho,” he informed her happily and her scowl got even worse.

_Worth it._

***

“Aren’t you all happy,” Minho greeted him from his table with a wide smile and legs on the desk, and Thomas rolled his eyes, closing door behind him. The office was full of boards with various key phrases written over it, and it reminded him of a class room.

“What’s this all about?” he nodded towards the room questioningly and Minho shrugged.

“Got a new case, Yay before Christmas,” he answered with less enthusiasm than before. “Guess you and Isaac are not the only ones who will get their hands full.”

“This looks like some scientific project,” Thomas pointed at one of the boards. “Or it may be just your handwriting, I can’t tell.”

“Smartass,” Minho snorted and sat straight again. “It’s a weird-ass case, but yours is worse, judging from the stormy expression Isaac had during the day.”

“Did he?” Thomas crossed his arms on his chest, attempting to act casual. Minho didn’t look like he suspected anything, so it was a good sign that he just waved his hand.

“Guess that stuff with Paige got nasty, eh? Tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Thomas nodded. “By the way, Teresa mentioned a surprise-,”

His words died in his throat when a sharp knock interrupted him and Newt appeared in a doorway, holding two files in his hand, and looking seriously caught off-guard when he realized Thomas was there too. He froze at the door, staring at the brunet, before he collected himself and entered.

“Oh, cool, that was fast,” Minho stood up, passing Thomas to take the files from the blond. “Thanks man. You sure you don’t need any help?”

“I’m sure,” Newt replied shortly, looking over to Thomas. Yeah, his expression surely wasn’t very happy. “What are you smiling about?”

“I’m not smiling!” Thomas groaned. “Why does everyone say that?”

“Cuz you are,” Minho shrugged. “Do something about it. You’re improving our morale, we can’t allow that.”

“Yeah, right,” Newt uttered and before Thomas could react, he disappeared in the corridor once more, closing the door a bit too strongly.

“See,” Minho pointed after him. “This is how you should act before meeting Ava Paige. He’s doing that right.”

“I still think you’re overreacting,” Thomas mumbled. Newt definitely looked like in a bad mood, probably even worse than when he left Thomas’ office.

“You’ll see tomorrow,” Minho told him with a smirk. “Be prepared.”

Tomorrow. Alone with Newt. Meeting feared Ava Paige.

The day couldn’t look any more interesting than that.

***

Thomas was leaving late. Everything got organized and prepared for tomorrow, and Thomas finally realized he hadn’t even read the e-mail Newt sent, and that started all this. Through the whole spamming season of bad jokes from Teresa he finally managed to find the right one to click at, with Newt’s work name on it.

He stared at the text for a second before bursting in laughter.

> **Can you stop by for a moment?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Yaaay, Monday! xD   
> I hope it didn't disappoint QQ Newt is such fuuuuuuuuuun xD


	15. Ava Paige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have I already told you how infuriating you are?” he asked and Thomas chuckled, shrugging.   
> “Not in these exact words, but you pointed some stuff out.”  
> “And yet you keep at it,” Newt stated, but it was easier now, almost carefree, and it made Thomas more relaxed, so he allowed himself a smile.  
> “I’m not really doing anything though,” he pointed out. “Just came for my colleague to get ready for a business meeting, yeah?”

Thomas couldn’t deny Minho’s “be scared” talk made an impression, even if only a subconscious one. He slept badly, kept on waking up, and the reason was changing during the night – once it was because he got nervous about the meeting with Ava Paige, expecting a dragon or maybe a Chimera, and once because his body was hot from the memory of Newt touching and kissing him, and his body heat seeping into him like a magic spell. It resulted in him being _not so fresh_ in the morning, but still functional after two cups of coffee in his office.

                At half past nine he decided to go after Newt, just to be sure, and found the blond reading a file in his office. He didn’t seem nervous, and thankfully neither he did look angry, even when he realized it was Thomas who appeared in the doorway.

                “Getting ready?” Thomas asked easily and Newt hummed in response, apparently caught up in the text. “Minho kept on scaring me that Paige is a fury.”

“She is,” Newt answered simply. “Just try not to let her inside your head.”

“Sounds enigmatic,” Thomas said and slowly approached Newt’s table, touching it with two fingers as if he was testing it. Newt looked at his hand for a second before returning back to the file. It took him approximately 5 seconds before he let out a deep sigh and closed it, putting it back on the table and looking up.

“Have I already told you how infuriating you are?” he asked and Thomas chuckled, shrugging.

“Not in these exact words, but you pointed some stuff out.”

“And yet you keep at it,” Newt stated, but it was easier now, almost carefree, and it made Thomas more relaxed, so he allowed himself a smile.

“I’m not really doing anything though,” he pointed out. “Just came for my colleague to get ready for a business meeting, yeah?”

“More like a trial,” Newt sighed and stood up. He had a perfectly fitting black suit with a thin tie and it made him look sharp, and possibly a little dangerous, if his expression wasn’t so troubled.

“Is she really that bad?” the brunet noted his mood and thought of reaching out and maybe touching a little, clasping a shoulder or caressing his arm lightly, but held himself back. They stood closer than normal – closer than Newt allowed him before (and then sporadically refused and allowed once more, unpredictable like weather), and it was _tempting_. He was almost sure Newt wouldn’t be pleased about it, but a small part of him still urged him to try it, to get a kiss as a reward maybe, and he wondered when exactly he became so easily pleased. Kissing was always nice, at least for him, but it was like a prelude, and it often included more touching. But Newt kept it PG (well… it would be PG if his kiss wasn’t so _lewd_ ), his hands hadn’t roamed at all, there was no fondling, no getting handsy. Just kissing. Just relishing this single activity and Thomas enjoyed it immensely, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an addict who needed it like air.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Bambi,” Newt’s voice pierced the veil of his runaway thoughts and he quickly focused back on the blond in front of him, eying him warily. “I swear to god you looked as if you just came in your pants.”

Thomas sputtered indignantly and it made Newt smirk with a pleased smile.

“Guess we should go,” he informed Thomas and patted him on the shoulder – it was short, but it _was_ a contact, palpable and there, and for some reason it made Thomas warmer and surer, and probably also bolder at some point. “It should take us about an hour to get there, so leave all your amusing thoughts for later.”

Thomas rather stayed silent, only giving the blond an evil eye and reaching for his coat he took with him before.

***

It took them around 45 minutes. For majority of time Newt was going through the important facts, pointing it out for Thomas just in case Ava was more than nosy than normally and had a need to drag the brunet into it as well.

There was a lot of information and even though Thomas studied the materials Newt gave him, it still felt a little overwhelming – even more so when Newt was basically telling him all just from his memory, not from the file. He had to remember a terrifying amount of facts, and that made Thomas awed a little. Those things were important – and complicated – and he just _knew_.

The building of Wicked, how Newt called WD with a sneer (also called Ava The Grand Witch and CFO Janson The Rat Man) was an enormous structure full of big windows and a scarily purple colours of walls in the lobby. It was dark and rich, not like blood but for some reason emitting the same effect on Thomas – a strange uneasiness gripped him just from walking inside. Newt seemed unaffected when they entered, not really taking a notion, and announced them sternly at the reception, asking for Ava Paige by her name.

The receptionist was a pretty dark skinned girl with very short hair, almost to her scalp, but she still looked very elegant. The nametag showed “Harriet” on it and Thomas thought it suited her very much. She smiled at them, welcoming and professional, and confirmed their appointment with Ava Paige without delay.

“The 7th floor,” she announced with a smile. “Miss Page is expecting you.”

Newt only nodded, leaving without any other word, but Thomas felt obliged to say at least _thank you_ and offer a smile, even though it probably meant nothing to her.

“It’s _huge_ ,” Thomas commented when they took the elevator and Newt pressed the 7th floor with a frown on his face. “I didn’t know WD is _this_ big.”

“They strive for impressing the masses with everything,” Newt replied, leaning against the railing, his back towards the mirror. “It’s part of their image. Their slogan is the best.”

“What is it?” Thomas asked, not really knowing all this stuff. He knew of WD, but since they never actually worked together he just didn’t look into it.

“Restoring the humanity,” Newt snickered. “Ambitious, isn’t it?”

“A bit apocalyptic, I suppose,” the brunet mumbled. “So Paige is in the lead for long?”

“She’s the founding member,” Newt noted. “Well, one of them at least. There was a CEO John Michael before her. I heard he died though. Cancer or something.”

“Ah, so she replaced him?”

“Yes,” the blond nodded. “She is like an Iron lady. Or an Ice queen. Take your pick. She is clever, no doubt. Genius maybe. But… I’m not a fan.”

“Well, even Minho said I should be afraid of meeting her, guess it has a reason,” Thomas offered, making Newt smile a little. “Are you afraid?”

“Of Paige? Nah,” Newt waved his hand and then crossing his arms on his chest. “But it’s not going to be a pleasant meeting for sure.”

The elevator dinged few seconds after and they exited the cabin into a lighter shade of purple. It was less intense, more welcoming, but still made Thomas feeling strained. The long, dimly lit corridor led them to a vestibule with a single table at the side of the room, almost next to the door.

Newt stopped him before they progressed further, holding him by his arm.

“Few more things,” he whispered to Thomas, suddenly close enough for Thomas to count his eyelashes. “Don’t let her gain an upper hand. Never let her make you agree on even a smallest stuff that begins _if we worked together_ , she can twist it into something you won’t like. Don’t let her inside of your head. She is manipulative if you do.”

“Okay,” Thomas whispered back and his sight involuntarily slid down at Newt’s lips.

“Tommy.”

“Mhm?” Thomas looked back up to Newt’s eyes again, just to see him staring back.

“Head out of the gutter.”

“Right, sorry,” the brunet mumbled and straightened up. Newt snorted and nodded, turning towards the vestibule.

“Chin up, don’t show any weakness,” he glanced back with a wink and Thomas wanted to kick him for it, but settled on a glare and remained quiet all the way to the table with another pretty lady behind it, although very pale, almost sickeningly. It made an interesting contrast with her reddish hair though, Thomas mused. He noted the name “Sonya” and almost laughed at the irony of her red hair and the name.

“Miss Paige is waiting for you inside of her office,” she greeted them with a smile and Newt didn’t even properly stopped by there and went right for the door. Thomas nodded in a silent thank you though and entered right behind Newt to the next brightly lit room.

The office was spacious and didn’t betray the purple layout, somewhat sharper though. In the whole almost sterile environment a tall woman with blond hair pulled back stood at her table, looking towards them with pleased smile on her lips. She had a thin, black glasses and a white costume, looking pristine and, Thomas couldn’t find a better word, dangerous. Like a predator on a hunt that just saw its prey. Newt adopted similar posture though, his body tensing, face going stone cold.

“Nice to see you again, Isaac,” she greeted him with smile and Newt stopped two meters from her as if he wanted to set a barrier that would keep them apart.

“Ava,” he said back and Thomas blinked few times. They were both calling each other by their first name? Well acquainted then.

“I’m glad you came here,” she took few steps forward and Thomas noticed how Newt tensed even further, apparently holding himself not to take the same amount of steps back. “We both know this matter is delicate and would be a pity to bury it only because our differences.”

“You mean this matter would be able to expose all these _nice_ things you are hiding?” Newt offered and Thomas finally understood the reference of not allowing her to get an upper hand. He was fighting back to prevent it, and judging from her look she hadn’t really liked it.

“In a matter of fact, no,” she said with a little colder attitude, returning to her table and walking around it so she could sit behind. “It is unfortunate that there is a connection to WD, but it happens everywhere. I merely want to prevent further decay, at both of our sides.”

“CFO Janson is not going to discuss it with us?” Isaac asked while approaching the side table, putting his suitcase there.

“Assistant director Janson is out of the state at the moment,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “So no. He won’t. Why don’t you and your assistant sit down?”

Thomas felt a stupor came over him when she looked at his still form, and there was something strange in her eyes when she was watching him, searching maybe, wondering.

He almost missed how Newt nodded and gestured for Thomas to follow him to the table he was at, sitting down. Thomas took one chair slowly as well, his voice not coming out even if he wished for it.

“Let’s talk business then,” she watched them both without any emotion showing, and buzzed her intercom. She hadn’t said anything into it, but seemed satisfied anyway with the noise and looked back at them.

“I think Jorge was at the wrong time at the wrong place,” she started.

“What a coincidence,” Newt uttered. “He tends to do that a lot, doesn’t he.”

“He is _not_ a spy,” she countered. “Regardless of what you believe.”

“Me? There is _evidence_ for it,” the blond responded and Thomas had to admit he was really out of it, but at the same time impressed by the exchange. He was familiar with the case, but the name, _Jorge_ , hadn’t really ringed the bell.

“ _Evidence_ ,” she repeated with a smirk – it looked strange on her. “I’d like to see this _evidence_ of yours for confirming such blatant lie.”

“I’m sure you’d like to see lots of things,” Newt shot back and Thomas’ mind wondered why he is playing it like this. If he had the evidence, why not prove it to her? To shut her up for once? To _gain the upper hand_? Was he playing for time? Bluffing?

Another not very pretty smile formed on her lips and at the same time the door clicked and another person walked in. Thomas turned around to see and his eyes went wide.

He stared at a thin brown-haired girl in a dress approaching the table in a complete rigidness, his jaw probably dropped too. She gave him a short look, only nodding, but not saying a word, and stopped at Ava’s table, putting down a file she carried on the desk.

A sudden pull on his sleeve made him look at Newt who was staring back at him in a silent question, but he didn’t even know what to say.

“Thank you, Brenda,” Ava smiled at the girl. “I believe you are familiar with Thomas already? Isaac is a new thing for you though.”

“I’m not a thing,” the blond protested with a slight frown forming on his face and Thomas could only gulp down the lump forming in his throat, his body tingling. Brenda? Here? She hadn’t worked in WD when they were together. She used to work for a small company, an assistant of a director there, but here?

“It’s nice to meet you,” Brenda said towards Newt, no smile, no real warmness. She smiled at Thomas though, all fondness and happy expression, and it confused him, because their break up sucked and they hadn’t talked to each other since. “It’s good to see you again, Tom.”

“Uh… hi,” he let out lamely.

One look towards Newt told him all he needed to know.

The blond was pissed off as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Wooo, a plot :D Also, for WickedValilali - there you have Brenda (dramatic noise) :D  
> Another thing - tomorrow is Christmas. I'm not sure if I'll be able to update, so... sorry in advance if not (Christmas is Christmas after all). If not, I wish all of you MERRY CHRISTMAS! (I know some of you unwrap presents on 25th, we do at 24th, but still, I wish you all you wished for, amazing food, lots of great time, and do share how it felt for you! I love hearing about Christmas, it's cute <3)
> 
> Thank you all for reading and your support, you are amazing and I love you all very much <3<3<3


	16. An Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Brenda is-,”  
> “Personal assistant. Her right hand. Thomas, for fuck’s sake, are you shitting me?” Newt’s voice raised and Thomas panicked.   
> “We broke up,” Thomas tried to explain, but it only made Newt’s eyes darker and colder. “There is nothing going on for a month, I swear we haven’t-,”  
> “Who you fuck with and why is really not my concern, Thomas,” Newt growled. “But you were working with me, and you had the access to everything, and the fact you have been bloody feeding her all this info-,”  
> “I haven’t- what, no, stop!”

Thomas didn’t really know how he appeared in the vestibule again with Brenda walking next to him, while Newt stayed in the Paige’s office all alone, and apparently shouting. Even when the door closed behind them Thomas could hear him clearly, raising his voice gradually.

He had a vague idea he had been basically kicked out now, he just wasn’t sure by whom. Paige said something about the case matters and asked if Thomas was Newt’s assistant, since the data were _private_. Newt said _no._ Paige sent him out with Brenda, telling her to _show him around_.

And so he was here. Absolutely dumbfounded by the fact his ex-girlfriend worked here, and the revelation Newt basically cut him off from the meeting, even though it was him who asked him to come with him here.

_Not his assistant._

Well, it’s true he _wasn’t_ , but still. He helped him with all the data, they basically worked together – the same way he had been working for Teresa or Minho when needed. But now he threw him out, right? He cut him off the work, didn’t want him to be there.

“Alliances change fast, hm?” Brenda gave him a smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it. Stuff like this happens here all the time.”

“I didn’t know you work here,” he blurted out, his brain going to overdrive. “You hadn’t when we… were together, right?”

She only smiled at him and nodded towards the sitting area in the vestibule. It was evasive and suspicious, and the first thing he could think of was: _a doppelganger_.

“How’s life going?” she asked instead when they sat down on a black cushioned chairs and she put her leg over another, sitting like a lady. He didn’t remember her like this. Brenda was always a little wild and definitely not this strained.

“Fine?” he answered in confusion. “All the same, I suppose.”

It surprised him as well; about one week ago he would be in pieces if he met her like this. But today it was only a strange unattached feeling there was something wrong, something bigger maybe, but his feelings that stayed after the break up weren’t the issue.

“Heard your company merged with The Maze,” she laid another weird topic and Thomas only nodded, staring at her with furrowed brows. “The Maze Runner sounds catchy.”

“Yeaaaah,” he frowned even more. “What’s this about?”

She didn’t answer and Thomas wondered if demanding a reasonable response was worth it. She looked amazing, he had to admit – just different. He remembered her wearing sneakers and jeans - dresses and high heels were unlike her. He wanted to ask some more, not too insistent, but curious, but then the door to Paige’s office opened and Newt stormed out like a hurricane. When he noticed Thomas and Brenda sitting in the back, his expression went through several more versions of _angry_ until he settled on a complete blankness and only pointed at the elevator.

Thomas quickly stood up, ready to bolt out of this weird place, when a hand on his arm stopped him.

“I deleted your number,” Brenda said in a strange tone. “You still have mine?”

“Yes,” he mumbled. Newt in meantime gave up waiting and went for the elevator alone, making Thomas nervous with the lack of care. He held his shoulders almost painfully tense and Thomas took it as a bad sign.

“Give me a call?” she asked and if that wasn’t weird enough, nothing else was. He nodded anyway and her hand disappeared, leaving him to go whenever he pleased. Thomas remained standing for several seconds, staring at her in thought, but when no other message came and she only sat back down, he went after the blond in a faster pace to catch up with him in the cabin.

Newt’s expression got stormy again once the door behind them closed, but now all this anger became pointed at Thomas – and it wasn’t anything pleasant. His eyes were fiery and hands balled to fists.

“So, this tiny little detail somehow escaped my attention,” the blond hissed, watching Thomas intently. “That _you_ , of all the people, are all buddy buddy with Paige’s assistant.”

“Brenda is-,”

“ _Personal_ assistant. Her _right hand_. Thomas, for fuck’s sake, are you shitting me?” Newt’s voice raised and Thomas panicked.

“We broke up,” Thomas tried to explain, but it only made Newt’s eyes darker and colder. “There is nothing going on for _a month_ , I swear we haven’t-,”

“Who you fuck with and why is _really_ not my concern, _Thomas_ ,” Newt growled. “But you were working with me, and you had the access to _everything_ , and the fact you have been bloody feeding her all this info-,”

“I haven’t- what, no, stop!” Thomas voice raised as well, a sudden coldness washing over him like a tidal wave. _Of course_ this had to be the first thing Newt thought of when he found out Thomas and Brenda knew each other! That all those things he learned about the case, he told her.

 “I wasn’t even talking to her for a month!”

“Of course,” Newt snorted and crossed his arms on his chest.

“I wasn’t!” Thomas insisted. “We broke up! A month ago! And she hadn’t even been working for WD at that time-,”

That made Newt lose it, since his body suddenly lunged forward, making Thomas’ breath hitch.

“She’s Paige’s assistant for _two years_ , you bloody prick,” a hard shove landed and Thomas’ back connected with the mirror of the cabin. “Do you think I’m a bloody idiot?!”

“Oh my god,” Thomas breathed out in disbelief. “No! That’s not right, she wasn’t-,”

Newt pinched the bridge of his nose and retreated back to the other side of the cabin, a sudden look of an utter defeat settling on his features like a heavy curtain.

“Just… forget it. I should have been more careful, I don’t know why I bloody let my barriers down with your sorry ass. Guess I’m the idiot after all,” he said. “I’m the only one to blame.”

“Newt-,”

“It’s _Isaac_ ,” the blond snarled at him. “Get your facts right.”

Thomas felt like throwing up.

***

If Thomas really wanted to be honest with himself, he would say he was a coward. All his life he never really stepped out, never took a bigger risk – the safest route was the easiest.

He condemned himself a coward today as well. He didn’t have the strength, the will _or_ the courage to go and explain himself to Newt, to _Isaac_. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. The whole ride back was deadly quiet and Thomas couldn’t bring himself to open the discussion again, the immense anger radiating from Newt’s posture was overwhelming, and he was _scared_.

There was a ton of things he could say in his defence, to explain, but it would mean talking to the blond face to face, _risking_ he would not be willing to listen, or maybe even swing at him, who knew. So he hid in his office and stared into distance, absolutely paralyzed.

It was the same position in which Minho found him an hour later, all smiles and remarks ready, but his face fell the moment he saw Thomas sitting there, pale and hopeless.

“Wow,” the Asian said while approaching carefully. “That bad?”

“Did you know Brenda have been working for WD for two years?” Thomas let out dazedly and Minho sat next to him, his face confused.

“WD? I don’t know, I thought she was in a small company doing accounting and shit?” he pointed out and Thomas felt himself nodding. “But in WD? Bullshit.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas mumbled. “I don’t know.”

“Why? What happened?”

“She was there. Paige’s personal assistant,” Thomas’ throat tightened at it. “I never knew. But she was. And New-Isaac is… he is pissed off and…”

“That’s bullshit,” Minho frowned. “A personal assistant of Ava Paige? That’s year’s work, man, that’s crazy.”

“He thinks I’ve been spying for them.”

“What?” Minho stopped in motion, staring at Thomas in a shock.

“That I’ve been telling Brenda all the case details, so the WD knows and… I haven’t been talking to her for a month and… he just doesn’t believe me and…” Thomas’ voice cracked at it and Minho let out some weird noise in the back of his throat.

“But that’s bullshit,” he repeated after a second and Thomas felt even worse. “Have you told him it’s bullshit?”

“I _tried_ ,” Thomas shook his head. “I tried and he turned me down.”

“Well… I know there had been lots of bad blood between WD and The Maze in the past,” Minho mused thoughtfully. “All those things with _spying_ and stuff. WD had to have an agent there or something – but I don’t know many details, it got covered up.”

“So the _information leak_ is not the first time?”

“Not the last one either, I’m sure,” Minho nodded. “WD and The Maze were always sort of… competing. I just think WD got a little dirtier about it. Bad thing is that now we are part of it too.”

“And Newt… Isaac believes it’s me who is now the one doing it.”

“God, this is some serious soap opera shit, man,” Minho sighed deeply. “What’s next? You get preggo? Or into an accident? Lots of crying around the bed stall?”

“I don’t know how to explain it to him,” Thomas mumbled. His hands trembled a little. It was… strange, the knowledge of Newt being angry with him. Not angry because some random thing, but angry because he believed Thomas deceived him - and Thomas couldn’t think of a way how to deal with it. Talking seemed like something Newt wouldn’t listen to, at least not from him. Sending Minho was low and cowardly. But doing nothing just basically silently agreed Newt’s suspicion was right.

“I can talk to him?” Minho offered and Thomas quickly shook his head. “Then you gotta do it, bud. Like it or not. It’s not just that he thinks you are a betrayer, but he may take precautions via business way, and the company can kick you out. Do it sooner than later.”

Thomas considered going to throw up first.

***

“I wonder if you are brave or completely ignorant, but I swear if you take one more step forward, I’ll throw something at you.”

Thomas stopped, but decided to remain stubborn and stayed.

“You have to hear me out,” he spoke up and Newt gave him an annoyed look, sitting behind his desk, staring at Thomas with a death sentence in his eyes.

“Is that so?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Because last time I checked I lived in a free country with democracy.”

“I’m not a spy,” Thomas ignored the attempt of throwing him off balance and pushed on. “I used to date Brenda, I admit. But it has been a month since -,”

“You last talked, yada yada yada,” Newt waved his hand, absolutely unimpressed. “Let me tell you something, Thomas. You’re a smart guy, I know you are. Don’t tell me you expect me to believe the sky is pink and sun blue just because someone told me to?”

“Alright,” Thomas uttered. “A hard way then. Where are your proofs?”

“Proofs?” Newt raised an eyebrow.

“I’m telling you it’s not true. But you’re insisting it is. So where are you proofs? On what background are you operating so you can be so sure _you_ are right and I’m lying?” Thomas pressed and made one more step forward, making Newt growl at him.

“And that’s why you’re smart,” Newt said with a hint of a smile, only a sad one, which made Thomas’ throat tighten.

“You have none, do you,” Thomas pointed out. “You just realized I know her and you thought of the worst possible outcome. And that was enough for you?”

“It’s WD,” Newt uttered. “A slight connection to them means there is something fishy about it. Your girlfriend working there as a personal assistant while you work here, having a trial with them, is already bad enough.”

“For one – Brenda is not my girlfriend,” Thomas grumbled. “For two – she hadn’t been working there when we dated. And don’t give me that face, _she was not_. You can ask Minho or Teresa, she used to work at some little shitty company as a secretary or something.”

“Or _something_ ,” Newt snorted. “That’s precious, really. Was this supposed to make me feel reassured? You don’t even know what job she had. Could as well be WD.”

“We would know about it,” Thomas insisted. “Not to mention she looked completely different, she used to be a tomboy, and now-,”

“I don’t give a fuck about how she looked before, thank you very much,” Newt interrupted him with a snarl. “Get to the point or get out.”

“A month of zero contact between us. I used to mope about the break up, _you_ were the one that made me forget about her-,”

“How sweet, brings a tear to my eye.”

“Fuck you, at least stop interrupting me all the time!” Thomas barked out and Newt blinked in surprise for several seconds before the mask fell back on place. “I never talked to her about cases before, no details; neither of us cared about that. We haven’t even dated for long to talk about stuff that’s boring, not even living together-,”

“Should I write that shit down and publish your biography? Cuz it hella sounds like it,” Newt stopped him again and Thomas sighed deeply.

“How do you know she used to be Paige’s assistant for two years?” he asked instead, looking at the blond questioningly. He saw Brenda for the first time there, Paige confirmed it.

“Ava said so,” Newt said simply.

“And you told me not to believe her,” Thomas gestured towards the table.

“I told you not to let her to gain an upper hand, not that she’s a liar,” Newt shot back.

“You just don’t want to believe me, do you,” Thomas concluded after a while of watching the man quietly. “You made a picture of me and you cling to it. You have no proofs about me being some fucking spy for WD, or that I actually talked to Brenda during the time I worked for you, and yet you are sure and you don’t care about the rest.”

“I _want_ to believe you, you fuck!” Newt stood up abruptly, making Thomas flinch from the intensity of it. “But you make it bloody difficult with all this shit around, I swear to god.”

“I’m not a spy,” Thomas repeated steadily.

“You as well might be,” Newt left the table, approaching him slowly. “You could have as well told them _everything_ already, because I’ve let you do it without checking up on you first.”

“I didn’t.”

“Give me one solid proof,” Newt stopped at the arm length, staring at him hard.

“Minho and Teresa-,”

“They are your friends, not counting. Could have been in this as well too.”

“Aris,” Thomas blurted out another name. “Or anyone here, really. They all know I broke up with her and moped around because she severed all contacts with me.”

Newt remained silent for a moment, watching Thomas thoughtfully.

“Do you know who Jorge is?” he asked suddenly and Thomas blinked few times.

“No,” he answered. “I heard his name today at the meeting from you and Paige for the first time.”

“Do you realize how suspicious is the fact Ava knew your name?” Newt asked again.

“I’ve seen her for the first time today as well. If she knows, it must have been from Brenda,” Thomas replied with forced calm and Newt frowned again.

“And that doesn’t strike you as unusual? Because it screams _suspicious_ at me for miles away.”

“I have _nothing_ to do with this,“ Thomas insisted. “I know you don’t know me for long, but _trust me_ a little with this.”

Newt closed his eyes for a moment as if the mere thought pained him, and his face adopted a suffering expression for a second. He took a deep breath and then breathed out again, and opened his eyes once more.

“This is serious,” he mumbled.

“I know,” Thomas agreed.

“I don’t want to regret this,” another thing from Newt’s lips and Thomas nodded in confirmation. “Please don’t make me regret it, Tommy.”

“You won’t regret it,” Thomas assured him. “I promise. You won’t.”

The look Newt gave him was sad, but hopeful at the same time and Thomas felt a ton of bricks lifted from his chest, making him breathe a little easier.

“Alright,” the blond breathed out. “You’re either really an innocent bystander. Or you’re sly as fuck. At any rate… I’ve probably lost my shit already, but I want to believe you’re on our side.”

“Brenda was-,”

“Also, stop talking about that woman,” Newt’s face darkened once more. “Just thinking of her smug smile when she was leaving with you makes my blood boil.”

Thomas raised both eyebrows in surprise, but held himself from commenting. It was a little ridiculous, but the fact Newt looked as if he was embarrassed enough for saying that made his mood improve a lot.

“Isaac-,”

“Sounds wrong from you,” the blond mumbled, avoiding his eyes shamefully. Thomas felt a smile forming on his lips and it was difficult to contain it, but he tried anyway.

“Newt,” he used the nickname like a weapon and the blond looked at him from under the black eyelashes, his eyes big and dark and consuming. It made him remain silent, just looking back, forgetting what he wanted, and Newt apparently didn’t even mind because he hadn’t demanded a continuation and stared back.

“Tommy,” he said after a while and Thomas sighed, snapping out of the trance.

“Head out of the gutter, I know-,”

“Forget about this once you leave this office, but let me have this now,” Newt didn’t let him finish it and Thomas didn’t have time to actually reply, because Newt closed the gap between them and pressed his lips on Thomas’. They both moaned at the contact and “the gutter” probably scrambled Thomas’ brain on full speed, because every thought that made sense disappeared the moment Newt’s tongue demanded entrance and Thomas granted it without hesitation.

It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad, sorry!
> 
> I'm terribly sorry for the delay, but the updates may get kinda random at the holiday QQ   
> Hopefully this chapter made sense :)  
> Did you all have a nice Christmas? I hope you did! <3 (We ate so much, and then got a lil drunk and it was nice and cozy ^^)


	17. A Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A pattern.”  
> “A pattern,” Newt repeated with an exasperated sigh. “I’m falling into a pattern with you.”  
> “People usually call it a relationship,” Thomas pointed out and Newt rolled his eyes.  
> “Blasphemy,” he uttered.

Kissing Newt was always something. The first kiss was on Thomas, the second punished him, and the third felt like a welcoming hug, a kiss between lovers, gentle and explorative and Thomas refused to let go on his own volition. It was slow and deliberate, and it made Thomas sated and calm, even though he couldn’t say what exactly Newt meant by all this.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing this on daily basis,” he whispered when Newt pulled back for air, and the blond hummed something, but didn’t dive back in (Thomas tried not to feel disappointed and failed).

“Is that so,” Newt mumbled back, his hands still resting on Thomas’ neck, almost unmoving, just touching.

“Obviously,” the brunet answered back and felt bold enough to put his hands on Newt’s waist. The blond didn’t react negatively, which was a good sign. “You’re making my head a mess with these things, I hope you realize that.”

“That makes two of us,” Newt piped in reply, his hands slowly sliding down towards Thomas’ chest, resting there.

“I’m not keen on ruining this, whatever it is, but…” Thomas took a deep breath and steeled himself against the possible refusal. “ _What_ are we doing exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Newt admitted, his eyes unsure. “I just know it’s something I don’t want.”

“Oh,” Thomas let out, and the confusion gripped him tightly. Something he didn’t want? So why did he do that anyway? He just didn’t make any sense lately.

“You’re ruining me,” Newt muttered. “From inside out. Corrupting, and I can’t think straight when it happens.”

“When what happens?”

“This,” Newt gestured towards him. “When you look like _this_.”

“What’s wrong with the way I look like?” Thomas didn’t understand a word and Newt apparently neither, because he sighed in defeat and shook his head.

“You’re insufferable,” he said then, finally making an attempt to get away from the close proximity. Thomas let him go with a frown, but his hands didn’t pull away until Newt was out of reach. “And by all those… puppy eyes and stupid smiles and being nice and caring… you’re ruining me and you don’t even realized that.”

“Realize I’m ruining you?”

“You’re destroying all the barriers,” Newt uttered, now a little more annoyed, although it seemed to be aimed at him, not at Thomas. “All the rules I set up, I’m constantly breaking them just because you look like someone kicked your puppy or you smile stupidly and I just think: _well, fuck it, if I do it once it won’t matter as much_. And then I think it again, and again, and again, and if the first was an incident; the second the coincidence, what is the third?”

Thomas felt as if his world miniaturized into this moment, a Deja vue of his own thoughts, the same thinking, the same words, now coming from Newt’s lips like a prophecy, and his brain got into an overdrive, almost short-circuiting, but his mouth worked when he said the word that kept on replaying in his head for so many days now.

“A pattern.”

“A pattern,” Newt repeated with an exasperated sigh. “I’m falling into a pattern with you.”

“People usually call it a relationship,” Thomas pointed out and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Blasphemy,” he uttered.

“You’re just worried you’d like it too much,” Thomas commented, and he meant it, even though he made it sound like an irony. Newt snorted and waved his hand.

“Oh, I’m sure, the commitment is the ultimate turn on,” he said while turning around, going back to his desk.

“I dunno,” Thomas shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, even though his body tingled with anticipation. “To know you can possess the other thoroughly because they are committed to be _yours_ only, I find it hot.”

He noticed the hitch in Newt’s breath and counted it as a win.

“I found it annoying,” the blond replied stubbornly. “A chain and a ball, that’s what it is.”

“If you like it kinky,” Thomas countered. “A stability and a constant.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Newt uttered.

“Feeling sure that you have somebody you can call by every possible nickname and they won’t mind?” Thomas didn’t feel like backing up, and it made Newt chuckle.

“That’s not even a proper argument, you’re losing, Bambi.”

“To have a person that knows you and you can tell them every worry that burdens you?” Thomas tried again and Newt shook his head.

“An annoying person who keeps on putting their baggage on the other, a massive turn off.”

“A regular sex.”

“Boring after a month.”

“You can always spice it up,” Thomas opposed and Newt sat down, looking at him in amusement.

“You’re not winning this one, Tommy. Give up,” he informed him with a sly smile and Thomas sighed.

“Alright,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. You don’t do relationship. And I don’t do casual. So where is the middle ground?”

Newt watched him quietly for a while, apparently contemplating about the answer, and then cleared his throat.

“What do you want then?” he asked in a steel voice and Thomas wondered if that was a trick question or an honest one. He didn’t want to make Newt uninterested, but this _thing_ between them, this occasional kissing that made him want more, but kept him grounded, this accusatory confessions that made him feel like he did something wrong, even though he didn’t know why or what – this all was bad, and he didn’t like it. In a long run it grew tiresome and frustrating, and surely Newt had to see it too, hadn’t he?

He told him no before. That Thomas shouldn’t even try, that he would turn him down. But even though, it was him who kissed him – twice. It was him who kept the mixed signals up and it made Thomas confused. Now also a little fed up too.

“I want you,” Thomas chose an honest answer and wasn’t even surprised Newt stared at him without a word. “And I know you don’t. That’s why I’m telling you honestly that this is not… what I want.”

“What is _this_?” the blond asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

“This on and off. Kiss or not. Talking and not talking. It’s tiresome and even though I like when we… do this, in a long run I’d just crash and burn.”

“I see,” Newt said quietly.

“Yeah,” Thomas avoided his eyes and the sound of something closing sounded in his head like a bell in a tower. Later he realized it was the door when he left the office.

***

                “I thought we’re having a Christmas party here?” Teresa pointed out and Minho shrugged.

“We can have two parties?” he offered. “One in here with everyone, one just three of us? We can get drunk at the other one.”

“As if something stops you from getting drunk at work,” she snickered and Thomas noticed how she looked at him for support and quickly put on a smile. He couldn’t really pay attention to their party planning, even though it was in three days already. For how he was glad the problem with Paige was gone (or at least partly solved), his head felt heavy and full of stupid stuff.

Why couldn’t he be casual for once in his life? Why not enjoy the opportunity? Why spoiling it with needless bounding custom? His record with relationships sucked anyway, he just couldn’t keep it up for long. So why was he forcing it on Newt? Giving him a stupid ultimatum? To break up with him after three months again? Or better – getting him leave him as other girls did? Because he is predictable and _boring_ in a relationship, and that’s what Newt disliked, right? The stereotype. Sex with the same person was boring for him after _a month_. That was a terrible balance for someone who should be faithful to a one person. And yet Thomas kept on insisting, in the end cutting them off from each other. From the nice thing, confusing maybe, but still nice.

Maybe if he just… tried hard enough? Not being so old-fashioned, live a little, enjoy it while it lasts?

“Is it still a problem? You haven’t talked to him?” Minho suddenly shook him and Thomas quickly looked up, blinking rapidly to get himself back in the present. “About that Paige thing?”

“Oh, no, it’s alright,” Thomas hastily assured him. “We talked it out.”

“So what’s bothering you?” Teresa asked with raised eyebrows. “Cuz you look like someone stole your pony.”

“I’m just thinking,” he waved his hand. “About Brenda.”

“Ew,” Minho voiced in disgust. “Again? It was better when you mooned after him.”

“I think it’s time for another one night stand to pull him out of his misery again,” Teresa nodded solemnly. “It worked before, even though just for a limited amount of time.”

“No, thanks,” he turned her down with a sneer. “Once was enough for a lifetime.”

“Maybe we should ask Shark again?” she offered with a sly smile. “Maybe he would help you out, for old time’s sake. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Right,” Thomas snorted. “And I’m pretty sure there is a reason why he does only one night stands.”

“Har har,” Minho agreed. “These guys who fear commitments are the worst.”

“Of course they are, you’re one of them,” Teresa patted his head in consolation and Minho growled something intelligible at her. Thomas finally laughed without strain.

Maybe it was a good thing, he mused. To set the borders. Good for both of them.

But it still hurt a little, like a missing limb.

Like a break up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Phew, I made it xD Sorry it ended somewhat grim QQ I'll make it better soon, I promise! <3


	18. A Signature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “With or without tongue?” the Asian looked at Thomas in full seriousness and the brunet snorted.  
> “As if you know what a French kiss is,” he teased him and laughed at Minho’s offended expression.   
> “Fine, for such offensive comment you won’t experience the best kiss you ever had, your loss,” the Korean told him as if it was a deadly sin and leaned forward as much as the boxes they both were holding let him, smooching Thomas like a parent his kid before sending them to school.

With quickly approaching Christmas the work in The Maze Runner gradually slowed down, until it almost stopped, flowing into static, remaining untouched and constant. Everyone fell under the Christmas laziness, the need to eat and drink, and definitely not work.  

Even Thomas had to admit the awaiting files on his desk looked less appealing how the time progressed, and on the 23th he already refused to even remotely look at it, not to mention to actually do something about it. The bad thing about the situation entailed a sophisticated reason to go and see Newt. Not that Thomas had a terrible urge to do so, it wasn’t like he had been pinning after him since their talk in his office, but… He got used to talking to the blond, even if it was only about work. The sudden loss of contact felt unnatural, and even though it hadn’t been anything disastrous and they still talked to each other when they met by coincidence on the hallway, it made him feel a little empty.

Maybe it was exactly why Thomas was happy for Minho’s insistence on helping him with the preparation of the Christmas party, so he could keep himself busy enough to forget about it. Since Minho always had been a perfectionist, soon the whole lawyer department was full of booze, food and all kinds of trinkets that signalized even to the biggest ignorant it was Christmas time, and Thomas was slowly getting into the mood as well. When they met Teresa holding a box with all kinds of decorations, she put a Santa hat on his head, as well as on Minho’s, smiling at them happily, and Thomas was pretty sure she already drank something to be that happy so early.

He ran around with the hat on his head for the rest of the day, and it actually felt like it fit. Basically no one really worked anymore, so more people were moping around hallways and meeting rooms, stealing a bite of the food here and there, and even though the party was planned on the evening, people were already festive enough.

“I thought we can go to the bar near your place, just for the good measure,” Minho suggested while they were carrying the last box of cakes to the meeting room and Thomas snorted.

“You think you’re leaving this place sober to be able to go drinking there after?”

“Not sober per se,” Minho opposed. “But in a jolly mood to continue the voyage of hating myself the next day.”

“Keep dreaming,” Thomas chuckled, opening the door carefully so he didn’t drop the cakes. “I know your drinking, you’re not-,”

“Freeze!” a sudden shriek made him completely rigid, as well as Minho next to him didn’t risk any other step, and they both turned around hesitantly towards the voice. Teresa was standing few meters behind them, her face a full-blown grin of someone who knew he could fuck others up, and Thomas had a bad feeling it was meant for the two of them especially.

“What?” Minho asked carefully, looking around to find anything suspicious, or reminding them of a bomb. “What happened?”

“Up,” she purred and Minho glanced higher, making her groan: “More up! Above you!”

Thomas looked up as well and couldn’t stop the burst of laughter that fought its way up his throat. A mistletoe hung above them prettily, apparently placed there by Teresa herself, judging from her convenient observation point.

“Traditions,” she smiled slyly at both of them and stepped a little closer, getting her phone ready. Thomas couldn’t say he didn’t expect it and Minho looked like he hadn’t had a word “surprise” in his vocabulary.

“With or without tongue?” the Asian looked at Thomas in full seriousness and the brunet snorted.

“As if you know what a French kiss is,” he teased him and laughed at Minho’s offended expression.

“Fine, for such offensive comment you won’t experience the best kiss you ever had, your loss,” the Korean told him as if it was a deadly sin and leaned forward as much as the boxes they both were holding let him, smooching Thomas like a parent his kid before sending them to school.

“What a lame kiss,” Teresa commented while Thomas was busy giggling, and lowered her phone with a disappointed sigh.

“You can still use it as a postcard, it’s PG,” Minho nodded towards her phone with a smirk and then cleared his throat meaningfully. Even Thomas turned to her expectantly and she gave them both an eye roll before actually kissing each of them shortly, making obnoxiously loud noise at it (her _MWUAH_ sounded in Thomas’ head long after).

“Well, there is lots of fish in the sea,” she told them with a wink. “You should be careful where you stand. Or better… with who.”

“Have you put the mistletoe _everywhere_ again?” Minho sighed, finally stepping inside the meeting room with her behind them.

“No?” she smiled at him innocently and Thomas just knew they were already doomed by getting smooched to death before the day ended.

***

“Am I seriously the only person who is actually still working here?”

Thomas quickly raised his head at the voice, seeing Newt at the door with several papers in his hand, and he had to admit the meeting room was already reminding more of a buffet than a working place.

“Maybe?” Minho answered from the other side of the room, too busy with decorating a little tree they brought around the noon. “Depends how festive you are. Because you definitely don’t look like having enough Christmas spirit in you.”

“Will definitely pretend I haven’t heard that,” Newt commented and when Minho wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, he took a deep breath. “Or seen this.”

It took him several seconds to spot Thomas in the crowd and he waved the papers at him.

“Can you, for a moment?” he asked. “Few signatures and a minor addition-,”

“Are you seriously making him work on 23rd?” Teresa sounded from the other side of the room, her face disbelieving. “Stop being such a workaholic, or do it somewhere else, he needs a break, geez.”

“I’ll make sure he enjoys it, if it makes you sleep better,” Newt shot back without hesitation and Thomas sputtered and quickly stood up before any other fires could have been shot. He saw how Teresa was already taking a deep breath for a rant and he definitely didn’t want to have the nice mood that settled around the room spoiled by their bickering (they got gradually better and better at it, their remarks and insults got meaner and more perfect by each conversation, and Thomas was afraid when this tension was going to explode and kill them all with the blast).

“I can do some signatures, no problem,” he quickly added, reaching Newt in few long strides, and the blond smiled at him lightly, nodding towards the hallway.

“Freeze!” Teresa shouted before they could even move and Thomas groaned, immediately realizing what just happened.

“What?” Newt glanced at her with a sigh and Thomas gave her an evil eye for it, earning a shit-eating grin in return. She just loved making his life miserable; it was patented and maybe also written somewhere.

“Kiss me,” he said to the blond with a lower voice.

“Wha-? Here?”

“Yes, look up and then kiss me, smile and wave and we can go,” Thomas almost whispered now, fidgeting at the spot nervously and Newt really did look up, groaning as a response.

“That’s ridiculous,” he informed him sternly and Thomas hummed in agreement, even though Teresa shouted ” _tradition!_ ” at them stubbornly, and adding: “Careful, Tom, he may bite you!”

“Just play along,” Thomas mumbled. “She hung it all over the place, I’m pretty sure this is not your last time to get kissed here.”

“This is worse than high school, I swear to god,” Newt shook his head and for a moment he looked like he may add something, but then he grabbed Thomas at the back of his head and pulled him close, pressing their lips together like they were used to now, swiping his tongue over Thomas’ lower lip teasingly, and the brunet gasped into his mouth, earning a quick French lesson in front of the whole meeting room full of people before Newt pulled away, licking his lips in response, smirking at him victoriously.

“Smile and wave,” he winked at Thomas smugly and left the room first. Thomas wasn’t even surprised when he glanced at the rest of the people to find Teresa _and_ Minho both with their phones, recording the whole process with evil grins on their faces. The rest of people looked more like they just saw a ghost and he decided to remain quiet and leave before the first rotten tomato lands.

***

“Was it really necessary?” he grumbled right the moment he entered Newt’s office, and the blond was already waiting for him, smirking from his place at the table where he was sitting on the desk.

“You said _kiss me_ ,” Newt pointed out. “What was I supposed to do? Blow you instead?”

“Oh my god,” Thomas rolled his eyes and rather extended his hand. “Give me the documents.”

“How prudish, Tommy,” Newt teased him instead, holding the papers close to him. “Who would say you can get such a nice shade of red? Matched your pretty hat.”

“Really,” Thomas glared at him accusingly. “That’s what you picked up from all of this.”

“You got surprisingly tense when I kissed you there?” Newt offered. “Unusual.”

“You’re such a prick,” Thomas uttered and it made Newt laugh heartily, and finally giving the papers to him.

“You like me anyway,” the blond snickered when Thomas glared once more, and jumped off the table to make space for Thomas to put the papers at for a proper signature.

“What’s this anyway?” the brunet leaned over it once the space was free and looked over the pages curiously.

“Divorce papers, this doesn’t have any future,” Newt answered with a deadly serious tone and Thomas had an urge to kick him.

“Let me guess, it’s not me, it’s you,” he glanced at him from the reading and the blond shook his head.

“Nah, mostly you, honey,” he grinned. “Although I rather like watching you leave.”

“I have no comment on that matter,” Thomas sighed and focused back at the papers. It was apparently a simple inquiries for the court he made and seemingly forgot to sign, so he went through it fast and started with the signing, when Newt’s phone rang and the blond excused himself from the office.

He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, Thomas mused. All jolly and joking, even teasing Thomas as if nothing happened in here before, no talk, no _dumping_. It was pleasant, he decided. Easy, like walking the well-known road and Thomas admitted it took a heavy burden off his chest.

He was through the third paper when his eyes skimmed to the side, noticing something familiar lying in between other papers, and for a while his brain didn’t connect the dots. Not until the fourth paper where it kicked him like a horse.

It was a card.

An appointment card from the NSA club.

It’s shiny golden edges, the burned information, it all was like a Deja vue and for a tiny little moment Thomas couldn’t breathe. His thoughts stopped altogether and his body moved on its own, grabbing the card from the table, looking at it dumbly.

**12/23/2014**

**6 PM**

**Park Central New York - Room No. 555**

**870 7th Ave New York, NY, 10019**

 

“Today,” he mumbled to himself, turning it over.

Well, of course. Why would Newt stop doing this? There was no reason, now even more so when Thomas turned him down for casual fun. It wasn’t surprising, really. It wasn’t.

Even though Thomas got this crushing pain in his chest too palpable for comfort.

He put it back as if holding it burned him and took back the pen, hovering just above the paper for another signature. He was okay. He was fine. There was nothing that could get him off the grove, nothing wrong with Newt’s free time activities.

He signed the last paper and the signature looked shaky and uncoordinated.

He was not okay at all.

“Sorry about that, I’m thinking of flushing the phone down the toilet by today,” a click of the door and Newt’s voice flooded the office once more and Thomas tried very hard not to flinch.

“All done,” he glanced at Newt with forced smile and put the pen back on the table. “Was there anything else or…?”

“Oh, no, it’s all, thanks,” Newt smiled back warmly and gestured towards the table. The smile was suddenly a strange, unnatural sight that felt _wrong_ ,. “The rest can wait. I won’t spoil your party, don’t worry.”

“Not coming?” Thomas almost bit his tongue at the question, and mentally hit himself for it.

“Nah,” the blond shrugged. “I’m not a party person. Would require being sociable. My only weakness.”

“Pity,” Thomas let out with the power of sheer will. “No more mistletoe kisses for you then.”

“Tempting,” Newt chuckled and took the papers, picking delicately at its corners. “Have fun, Tommy. Merry Christmas.”

“You too,” Thomas bit out, almost killing himself in the process, and left the office in a slow pace, not trusting himself to say anything else.

There was nothing between them. He alone assured that after all.

So why he felt cheated?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Oookay. So that happened. Please don't hit me QQ I swear this is the last... or maybe one more, but definitely one of the last "so much drama" chapter (I know it's annoying QQ).  
> It's a little of a bonus chapter, since it's Saturday (well, Sunday now at my place, lol), but I had to get it out of my chest before going to sleep :D
> 
> Thank you all for reading, you are the most amazing beings in the world and I love you all! <3


	19. A Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Man up,” she nudged him with a smile. “Come drink with us. You’ll forget about her in no time when Minho starts to dance.”  
> “He’ll dance?” Thomas skimmed towards the place where Minho was cheering and she chuckled.  
> “Of course. As every year.”

“Dance off! You and me!” Minho pointed at Thomas with a glass in his hand and the brunet snorted. The party haven’t even started yet and Minho was already tipsy, dancing with Teresa where was enough space for their poses, and now he wanted to drag Thomas into it too. Thomas thought about it, but shook his head in the end, shooing the man away and rather checking on the music.

The time moved significantly forward and the 6th hour was almost upon them. People started to appear gradually, all Christmas hats and dresses, and it got livelier with each person, until the place got crowded enough to call it a party, with music blaring from speakers and crowd cheering with Christmas wishing.

Thomas planned on cheering with them when he came in today, he really did. But now it felt like being stuck somehow, like all smiles were a little too forced, and no amount of alcohol could ease it. The clock ticked and passed 6 and Thomas felt his consciousness darken with each passing minute, the golden card vivid in his mind, burning an unpleasant image of Newt with another man, in a hotel room-

“Who gave you a lemon instead of alcohol?” a voice interrupted his thoughts with a light shove to his shoulder and he quickly looked up, staring at Aris with a Santa’s hat in confusion. “You’re the only one who looks like at funeral.”

“Nice hat,” Thomas managed to smile a little and Aris snorted, nodding towards Thomas.

“Yours as well.”

“Thanks,” the brunet mumbled, adjusting the hat a little better and Aris sat down next to him with a smirk.

“Heard you had some nasty Frenching business with the new guy?” he nudged him with his elbow, making Thomas cringe. “Teresa is making it really difficult to avoid this year, huh? I swear I got smooched for 10 times already, and I was being careful.”

“You know her,” Thomas forced himself to laugh a bit. “She is a keeper.”

“I know right,” Aris giggled. “But your prince is not here today, eh?”

Thomas was too bummed out to pretend he didn’t know who was Aris talking about, so he just shrugged, staring into his drink as if it could give him some answers.

“He had something else planned,” he mumbled after a while. “Couldn’t make it here.”

“Pity,” Aris commented. “Heard he’s a cool guy.”

Thomas remained quiet and sipped his drink instead.

A cool guy. Of course, Newt was definitely _a cool guy_. Who was now probably having an orgasm or… something. Thomas cringed once more at his own thoughts and rather drank a bit more.

***

“What’s up with you?” Teresa joined him a while later, a drink in hand and food in another. “Shouldn’t you compete with Minho in a drinking game or something? He’ll get drunk all by himself this way, that’s no fun.”

“I’m not really in the mood,” Thomas offered a small smile to console her. “It’s a weird day.”

“Is it?” she gave him a look. “Is it because Shark isn’t here?”

Thomas groaned and she patted him on his head, raking fingers through his hair, comforting him.

“Brenda then?” she tried one more time and Thomas forced down the snort that was coming up his throat. Maybe it was better when she thought about him being still moody because of the girl than the guy who liked to get hot with random men in hotels.

“Man up,” she nudged him with a smile. “Come drink with us. You’ll forget about her in no time when Minho starts to dance.”

“He’ll dance?” Thomas skimmed towards the place where Minho was cheering and she chuckled.

“Of course. As every year.”

***

Minho danced. Teresa danced with him. The rest was cheering and Thomas was sure they also passed money towards them, putting it behind the waistband of Minho’s trousers and Teresa’s skirt. Thomas found it hilarious, and his mood lifted a little, basically the same way as his alcohol consumption, so in the end it was sort of alright, sort of Christmas-y and only partially bitter, which Thomas counted as a win.

It was around 8 or 9, Thomas wasn’t sure; the small digits blurred into one, making it like small red pool. He drank too many shots, got kissed under each and every mistletoe Teresa hung around the meeting room, and actually danced with them, leaving the stress away. Outside was dark and it snowed, and when Thomas finally sat down to catch a breath, his sight focused out of the window with a sigh. With Christmas tomorrow this was the last day at work until the New Years, and seeing most of his colleagues like this felt a little nostalgic.

“Don’t let the scenery fool you, it’s bloody cold outside.”

Thomas blinked and turned around, all words dying in his throat at the sight. Newt stood there in his long, black coat, covered in slowly melting snow and with damp hair, and he was _smiling_ , and it was so _strange_ Thomas didn’t have anything to say for a moment, he only _stared_.

“Changed my mind,” Newt said, his expression turning into a sheepish one. “Thought it’s probably worth to attend a party when it’s the last time this year we all see each other.”

“But…” Thomas breathed out, dumbfounded. “I thought you…”

His slightly hazed brain couldn’t connect the dots, didn’t supply him with anything worth of an explanation, and basically left him hanging.

“Two hours of roaming the streets is not really the best idea of fun, let me tell you,” Newt sighed, all confident again, but Thomas noticed how he bit his lower lip when he paused. His eyes immediately slid lower, towards his neck, searching for hickeys. Two hours, that was pretty short considered their own whole-nighter, wasn’t it? Not that it was something to be proud of to notice, but still. Maybe Newt didn’t like it, or…?

“Is something the matter? You are… kinda staring,” Newt interrupted his thoughts and Thomas quickly looked back up.

“Marks,” he blurted out.

“Marks?”

“I can’t… see any marks,” Thomas brain supplied, unfortunately out loud, and Newt’s face got even more confused than before.

“You lost me,” the blond shrugged and Thomas couldn’t help but stare how the drops of water travelled from his hair down his face thanks to the movement, disappearing behind the coat. His neck was bare now, he probably took down the scarf when he got back to the building, and it was perfectly clean, no red proofs of someone marking him, and it made Thomas more relieved than it probably should have.

“Oh,” Newt suddenly voiced and the brunet looked up once more, seeing the sudden understanding in Newt’s brown eyes. “You saw the card.”

“Of course I saw the card,” Thomas uttered, frowning. “I was in your stupid office. It was on your fucking table.”

Newt nodded shortly and avoided his eyes, biting his lips nervously. He actually looked ashamed, and Thomas wondered how did they even got there.

“I didn’t go there,” the blond declared after few seconds. “I mean I did. I… did, sort of. But I changed my mind and I got off the taxi in the middle of the way and… just roamed the shops, I just couldn’t...”

“Couldn’t…?” Thomas repeated slowly and Newt made a vague hand gesture.

“It’s annoying,” he said after a moment. “Because I hadn’t had sex since we did it, and it’s tiresome, and I’m horny but I just can’t go and get the first guy I see, and it’s pissing me off so much you probably can’t even imagine, and I had this stupid card for half a month now, and when there was finally the right time to use it and get some relief, it felt wrong as if I was cheating on you or something.”

Newt took a deep breath and then growled – honest, fed up sound from his throat that made Thomas wonder if he wasn’t a half cat, or maybe a leopard or something, and his mind was so out of it that it actually started to believe it a little.

“Which is bloody ridiculous, because there is nothing, see, nothing at all, and yet I just got this bloody chain on my leg anyway, and it holds me so bloody short it’s…”

“Annoying?” Thomas supplied breathlessly and Newt pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded.

“Yes. Bloody annoying.” He took a deep breath and then shook the coat off his shoulders, revealing the same suit he had in the morning, and Thomas wanted to point out he went to fuck a random guy in a suit, but he gulped it down and remained quiet.

“So I was out in the city and for two bloody hours I was going through it, looming in shops, and all I could do was thinking of your puppy dog eyes staring at me, telling me _I don’t do casual_ , so I got you a gift,” Newt started to ramble again, and now it really was a speech of someone who got too nervous to remain quiet, who needed to fill the silence with everything that was in his head, and Thomas wanted to hear it _all_. “Not a birthday gift – since you know, handcuffs. Still think it’s brilliant, mind you, a mastermind, really. But no, a proper Christmas gift, like, a normal one you can actually show others and not hide it somewhere.”

“You got me a gift?” Thomas felt like he was getting more and more sober how his brain tried to catch every word Newt said. The blond sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, you know, me and gifts, always a big challenge, so I got you one, because hey, it’s Christmas, and this is a Christmas party, so it’s sort of mandatory, yeah?” he took out a small box from the inside pocket of his coat and Thomas couldn’t look away.

A gift? He really was roaming around the city to get him a present? How secretly sweet was this guy?

“But I didn’t get you anything,” Thomas mumbled in apology and Newt chuckled, even though still nervously.

“Maybe I thought of a suitable exchange when buying it?” he suggested and Thomas had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from melting into a puddle of goo – Newt was downright adorable, all fidgety and hopeful, and it tore Thomas’ heart to pieces to see him like that, but his drunk brain decided that this was exactly the time for shutting down and not offering any good response except of looking, which made Newt even more nervous.

“It’s not an engagement ring, if you’re wondering,” he informed Thomas seriously. “It’s just… a thing. For you. If you want it.”

“I want it,” Thomas said quickly. He didn’t even thought about it; it flew out of his mouth faster than an order at Starbucks. He still wasn’t even sure what was happening, but Newt was giving him the box slowly and he took it, and there was a strange anticipation in his face, something that made Thomas absolutely defenceless. He opened the flat case right when he got it, noting how his fingers trembled and just hoped it’s not very visible, that Newt didn’t notice, because he wanted to keep the upper hand for a little longer.

On a dark velvet cushion laid a silvery pendant of a maze, neatly made and absolutely stunning. Thomas’ brain froze completely at the sight and if Newt hadn’t cleared his throat after a minute, he would probably stare at it until morning.

“I just saw it and thought of you,” the blond said and sighed. “Or something like that, that’s how the line goes, right? So the cheesiness is complete.”

“What changed your mind?” Thomas asked instead and the expression on Newt’s face morphed in a blink of an eye. Suddenly he looked as if he got caught up stealing or with pants down in the middle of a full football stadium, a strange fear and vulnerability seized his whole persona, and Thomas hated such reaction, it felt wrong and unreasonable.

He looked back at Thomas with wide eyes and an unvoiced _oh_ on his lips.

“You,” the blond said after another moment of silence. “I don’t know how. But you did.”

“I don’t do casual,” Thomas responded with his line and Newt nodded.

“I know,” he agreed. “Apparently neither do I.”

“I’m not a very exciting companion,” Thomas added, his fingers tracing the pendant unconsciously and the blond chuckled a little more easily now.

“I think you’re a very exciting companion, Tommy.”

“I’ve never dated a man before,” Thomas pointed out.

“Cool!” Newt actually smiled at him. “Because neither have I!”

“You hate stereotype,” Thomas’ brain protested and he wanted to kick it out of his body for it, because he was trying to sabotage himself stupidly.

“You don’t really strike me as a person who sits at home watching TV every evening, commenting politics and eating burrito,” Newt shrugged and Thomas wanted to stop, he really, really wanted to, but his brain just couldn’t get satisfied.

“But… you said it’s like a chain and a ball!” he found another thing and Newt snorted.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed with it easily. “But maybe it’s what I want?”

“But-,”

“Tommy,” Newt finally, _finally_ stopped Thomas’ rant. “I don’t mean to… force you or anything. But give me a chance? Just one chance.”

His face was so hopeful Thomas couldn’t breathe for a moment. Newt was always confident and strong, and suddenly there stood a man that asked him for _a chance_ , who really looked like he’d like it, that saying _yes_ would make him _happy_ , and Thomas felt like exploding.

There was only one answer he could possibly give.

So he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Phew, I made it, woooot. 2 AM, jesus xD  
> Anyway! Yeah, so this is it, tadah! Does it suck? It sucks, doesn't it QQ  
> I just thought about this scene for a long time, and it changed gradually how I kept on adding layers and layers, until this came out. At first it had to be a little more loud. Then a little more quiet. This is sort of a middle ground. Because I wanted to keep Thomas as the one we know what he wants, the one that stands his ground, and Newt, since he is "the mysterious one" like the guy who gives in, who, after the initial "I'd say a flat no" changes into "just one chance and we will see, I'm willing to do this if you are". I hope it didn't disappoint as much :(
> 
> I have a feeling the next chapter may get a different rating though. Just a heads up.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and your amazing support! I'm sorry it took this long, too busy with family visits QQ Have an amazing day, Ily all! <3


	20. An Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want to seem impatient or anything,” the blond whispered, barely touching Thomas’ lips, but an inch space between them was almost non-existent and Thomas had to hold himself by sheer will for not closing that gap. “But I really can’t wait much longer, their timing sucked.”  
> “I know, right,” Thomas replied breathlessly, his hand letting Newt’s go and curled around his waist instead, pulling him closer. “I wasn’t sure if it was even real during that drinking session.”  
> “What, my charming self?” Newt chuckled and teasingly nipped at Thomas’ lower lip. “Because I’m very real.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated M. Sort of. Um, yeah.

“No way!”

Thomas didn’t know who out of him and Newt looked more surprised by the sudden intrusion, but judging from Newt’s yelp when Minho grabbed him around his shoulders and shook him like a sack of potatoes, it was probably the blond.

“You arrived!”

“Shark is here? No waaaaaaaay!” Teresa’s voice added to the mix and at that point Newt groaned when she appeared in his field of vision and smiled at him sweetly. Thomas already knew it meant she was up to no good, but since she was also slightly drunk, it multiplied at least by thousand.

“Guys, can you let him breathe for a second?” Thomas interfered when Newt sent him a pleading look, but Minho took it as an invitation to pull Thomas close to him as well and crush him with his other arm.

“Breathing is for the weak, this is a party!”

He wanted to say something to get Minho off them, but then he noticed Newt was actually laughing, and it stopped any words altogether.

***

“Edwards club!”

“You’re already wasted, are you serious?”

“You know you want to!”

Thomas tried not to laugh at the exchange, and at how Minho wiggled his eyebrows at Teresa to get her to agree. They both knew she was already at her limit, and would probably get face-smashed on the counter with another shot, but Minho tried anyway.

“You?” Minho glanced at the brunet and Thomas shook his head, really not feeling up for another drinking. All he felt for was to get out of the building with Newt, because they just decided they were going to date and didn’t get a single opportunity to even _touch_ , and Thomas was literally itching to do at least something, to get sure it wasn’t just a glimpse of his drunken imagination, that Newt really asked him out.

And the blond was there, within reach; drinking with the gang, not even insulting Teresa as much. And she actually was kind of nice to him, at least within limits, so Thomas counted it as a win and after an hour or two (he seriously wasn’t sure, the time lost its meaning after third shot of something that burned his throat and made his eyes water) they all varied from tipsy to really, really drunk and called it quits.

Within another half an hour or so, Thomas wasn’t really sure, he found himself waving people off, ready to go take his things and somehow get home, when there was an insistent pull on his hand after the elevator’s door closed and the last person left the floor. He turned around, taking the hand that held him closer, and Newt cupped the back of his head and leaned in.

“I don’t want to seem impatient or anything,” the blond whispered, barely touching Thomas’ lips, but an inch space between them was almost non-existent and Thomas had to hold himself by sheer will for not closing that gap. “But I really can’t wait much longer, their timing sucked.”

“I know, right,” Thomas replied breathlessly, his hand letting Newt’s go and curled around his waist instead, pulling him closer. “I wasn’t sure if it was even real during that drinking session.”

“What, my charming self?” Newt chuckled and teasingly nipped at Thomas’ lower lip. “Because I’m very real.”

“That you want to d-date me,” Thomas’ breath hitched when Newt pressed to him closer, and his back hit the wall behind him. Newt’s body was warm and welcoming and Thomas’s brain almost stuttered to halt with the proximity.

“What I really want,” Newt rested his hands on Thomas’ neck, gently caressing it. “Is to kiss you. Like… really a lot. Wanted to for some time.”

“For some time?” Thomas repeated, angling himself a little better so Newt fitted like the right piece of a mosaic, and his hands dropped a tad lower, resting on Newt’s hips.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” the blond breathed out, dragging his lips over Thomas’ briefly. “Not even the slightest idea how _crazy_ I’m about you.”

“Are you?” Thomas managed, even though the blood was pounding in his head, his heart beating like a bell. If Newt was crazy about him, Thomas probably already abandoned his sanity.

“ _Yessss_.”

A soft peck stopped Thomas from saying anything more, even though he had millions of questions whirling in his head, ready to pop out and demand answers, but Newt was already done talking, because suddenly his lips stopped being shy and there was a hot tongue and hungry insistency, and Thomas just let him lead, let him press into him more, to kiss as if it was the only thing that mattered – and hell, maybe it did. Maybe this moment was exactly what they both needed, holding each other while the kiss overruled them, making Thomas moan into Newt’s mouth.

Now the initial thought of Newt disliking kissing or treating it like in Pretty Woman got purged, and a new, more honourable thought took its place. Newt _loved_ kissing. There was no doubt about it – he enjoyed it and his kisses were deep and hot and Thomas wished for him to go on forever.

“This is probably a bad place,” the blond suddenly pulled away, looking around while breathing heavily, and Thomas followed him with his lips until he captured them again, licking inside of his mouth demandingly, and Newt moaned and pressed against him even tighter, as if he couldn’t get enough of the contact.

“To the office at least?” he tried once more when they parted for air and Thomas groaned – this position was perfect, their bodies were so close and it was hot and brilliant and Newt’s kisses were so lewd and fulfilling. The thought of letting him go – even for a moment – was very unappealing.

“Stay here,” he whispered to Newt’s ear, biting it lightly, making Newt’s breath hitch. “A little more.”

“Tommy,” Newt’s hands slid higher to Thomas’ hair and pulled a little, a sweet pressure with gentleness of his touches - a deadly combination. “I’m not planning on stopping at kissing; a hallway is a little too open for a blowjob.”

Thomas’ brain probably short-circuited.

***

“If I knew you can get speechless so easily, I’d throw innuendos at you as the first thing in the morning,” Newt chuckled, closing the door behind them. He chose Thomas’ office, and didn’t even bother with turning lights on, he just pushed Thomas further inside until the brunet’s back collided with the table.

“You just offered me a…” Thomas gulped down, his hands trembled. He felt like in a high school again, all shaky and excited because someone wanted to give him an immense pleasure, just like that, and this wasn’t even the closet in the backyard, it was an office, his work, and Newt was not a girl with pigtails and a short skirt.

“It wasn’t an offer,” Newt started unbuttoning Thomas’ jacket slowly. “It’s a simple fact.”

“Oh my god,” Thomas groaned and threw his head back when Newt nudged a knee between his legs, smiling at him wickedly.

“You have no idea how satisfying this is,” he purred at him while he dragged the jacket down of his shoulders. “To see you crumble like this. _Again_.”

Thomas wanted to say something back, but his throat refused to let out anything that wasn’t a moan, because Newt pressed more and the friction was killing him for sure. A tug on his belt got him trembling and then his trousers were open and Newt was smirking at him like he knew a secret of the life, and goddamn, maybe he did, Thomas would believe him anything now.

“Well, at least now I don’t need to ask you if this is your first time with a guy, huh?” the blond commented while looking down and Thomas groaned, his body tense and full of anticipation, and now even embarrassment, because hell, he was probably hard from the first touch Newt landed on him.

“Newt-,”

“I’m not complaining,” the blond assured him. “I’m very, very far from complaining.”

“Your suit-,”

“Ah,” Newt quickly stripped his jacket and threw it somewhere where the couch should have been. “You have to work for the rest, Bambi.”

“Tease,” Thomas breathed out, and it was difficult to act threatening, or even look at least a little serious when his pants were open and Newt’s hand was inching closer until it gripped him in a sure, scorching grasp. He couldn’t stop the loud moan and it was the only luck there was no one present but them, because he was pretty sure it reached even outside.

“Didn’t get any from the last time?” Newt bit his ear playfully and Thomas reached for his head and pulled it so they kissed again. A messy, hot kiss that Thomas overruled fast, desperate and hungry, and the surprised noise Newt did in the back of his throat was like a pleasant bonus to his endeavours. But Thomas was too into it to hold back anymore, and he needed more, so much more, and it included Newt closer and with less clothing. His hands immediately got to work, but halted again once Newt gripped him firmer, moved faster, and the tables turned in a blink of an eye.

“Aren’t you a fighter, Tommy,” the blond chuckled a little breathlessly and licked his lips, now all red from the wild kiss. “And here I thought I was the only desperate one in this room.”

“A joke of the century,” Thomas shot back, his voice trembling, and Newt smirked at him and then disappeared from his line of sight. Down. On the floor. Kneeling in front of him.

Thomas was almost scared to look down, to see the lewd image of this gorgeous being suddenly _licking_ , and his thoughts abandoned his brain, leaving only a white noise in its wake, the buzzing that grew louder and louder, swallowing everything else.

His legs got shaky and weak and he realized one of his hands raked through Newt’s (soft, so soft) hair as if searching for support – not pushing, only resting, and Newt hummed around him and it was the hottest thing ever he almost cried out from the sheer pleasure. His breath was getting shallower and heart beat so fast it started to hurt, and the buzzing got louder, it hollered in his head like hornet’s swarm. He barely registered he was saying something, probably a litany of swear words, or maybe praises, or possibly just Newt’s name over and over again, in a broken voice full of need. And then it got unbearable and too sweet, too much, too amazing, and he tried to warn him, he really, really did, but all his body was able to do was to tighten his hold on Newt’s hair and bend over, his body twitching, and Newt made a noise of satisfaction that threw Thomas over the edge, burying him under the onslaught of a pure bliss.

He was barely able to catch his breath, so he stayed in the position, his body trembling pleasantly, and when he finally opened his eyes he didn’t remember closing, he found Newt sitting in front of him, smiling slyly, his hair a mess.

“That worked, huh?” he told him with a chuckle and Thomas barked a laugh and his legs gave out. He basically crashed in front of his _boyfriend_ (it was still unreal, something he couldn’t believe) and Newt’s laughter got a little louder, a giggle that was amazing and rare, and he leaned over him, resting his head on Newt’s shoulder, dropping small, loving kisses on the blonde’s neck, trying to convey the message.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, his voice weak, but Newt heard him anyway and hummed in agreement. “I want to do it too.”

“I have a better idea,” Newt smirked, and the voice suggested it was an evil grin, Thomas could tell, even though he couldn’t see his face, and he quickly straightened back to uncover the reason until he heard a tinkle that made him freeze.

Newt was holding the handcuffs he hid before in the drawer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I'm terribly sorry for the delay! QQ  
> Also sorry for the smut. Or... kinda smut. It's not really a smut. Just... a thing. Yeah. I'll be in a corner now, banging my head against the wall.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! <3 You're amazing! <3


	21. Handcuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you even have keys?” Thomas sighed, giving up the fight with the metal prison, and Newt made an oops noise, making Thomas pale like a sheet of paper. Three seconds later Newt burst in laughter, showing the brunet the small key in his palm, giggling like a school girl.   
> “Seriously!”  
> “You’re a dickhead,” Thomas bit out, his face getting red now, but it didn’t stop Newt from hollering with laughter. “Get me out of it.”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon,” Newt laughed at him happily, spinning the handcuffs on his finger. “You’re the guy who left the handcuffs at work; you must have planned something with them.”

“I- no, I haven’t-,”

“God, you’re too adorable, seriously,” Newt chuckled and caught the handcuffs with his other hand, putting them next to him on the ground, then reaching out towards Thomas and crawled on his lap. “I still think you’re secretly a bad boy, you know.”

“I think you cover that for both of us,” Thomas breathed out, his hands immediately shot up to support the blond on him, resting on his waist, and Newt smiled while wriggling to find the most comfortable position. The fact he was sitting on Thomas’ lap with his trousers still unfastened didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“I’m the bad boy now?” the blond teased him with a smirk. “Impossible.”

“Right,” Thomas snorted. “Because that-mpfff.”

“Just so you know,” Newt nipped on Thomas’ lower lip when he pulled back from the kiss. “I don’t know how to date. Are there any rules I should obey? Sex only on Mondays, flowers on Tuesdays, dinner on Wednesdays?”

Thomas’ brain barely understood the meaning of the words after the kiss, and Newt’s movement on top of him really didn’t help his blood to supply the brain instead of his south area.

“D-dating?” he repeated with a shuddering breath and Newt hummed, his fingers tracing Thomas’ jaw delicately, then traveling along his throat, under the edges of the shirt.

“I’m not really a boyfriend material, you see,” he mumbled, following his fingers with his eyes. “I know how to get you hot and happy in bed, but I’m not sure what else is allowed.”

“Everything is allowed,” Thomas whispered, his mind a little clearer, and he caught Newt’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly.

“Do I get a collar?” Newt tilted his head to the side and Thomas chuckled.

“Do you want one?”

“Kinky.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile, and when Newt leaned for another kiss, he couldn’t stop, not even when the blond managed to push him down, crawling atop of him. He was so caught up in the heat coming from his body he let Newt to do anything he wanted – his hands roamed over his chest, unbuttoning haphazardly few buttons, then slid higher, towards his shoulders, gripping him there to prop himself up, his body a beautiful lean curve. When he pushed Thomas’ hands up, above his head, and captured his lips in another searing kiss, Thomas almost forgot that they are lying on a floor, even though a bed would be a lot better, or the couch that was still in his office forgotten in the shadows.

His thoughts got interrupted the moment he felt something cold touching his wrists and then a click and inability to get his hands back down.

“What the-,”

“You’re so easily distracted,” Newt grinned atop of him, looking down, and Thomas shook his hands just to hear a metal ringing how Newt locked the handcuffs around the leg of the table, making it impossible to get out of it without help. “One kiss and I could even set you on fire without you noticing.”

“Newt-,”

“I should make a picture. Set it like my phone background. You, chained up on the floor, deliciously ruffled, half naked, with a look of an utter disbelief on your pretty face.”

“Do you even have keys?” Thomas sighed, giving up the fight with the metal prison, and Newt made an _oops_ noise, making Thomas pale like a sheet of paper. Three seconds later Newt burst in laughter, showing the brunet the small key in his palm, giggling like a school girl.

“Seriously!”

“You’re a dickhead,” Thomas bit out, his face getting red now, but it didn’t stop Newt from hollering with laughter. “Get me out of it.”

“Oh wowow, not yet,” Newt hiccupped and put the key on the table, returning back down with a smirk. “I didn’t even have fun with you.”

“You laughed pretty hard just now,” Thomas pouted, and it made Newt’s smile soften.

“Trust me,” the blonde’s voice dropped into a whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Thomas replied in a serious tone, his body relaxing again, and he clattered with the handcuffs again. “But I can’t touch you this way.”

“Isn’t that infuriating,” Newt watched him intently, as if the answer had a hidden meaning in it. Thomas stared back, searching for an explanation, but the blond only sat back up and pulled his shirt off.

He was right. It was _maddening_. Thomas couldn’t do anything, there was no other way than to stay put, watch and be grateful for Newt’s initiative – he tried to chase him with his lips, but the blond always moved out of his reach, smirking at him provocatively, and Thomas only growled, impatient and frustrated, trapped under him. His bare skin was right there, right in front of him, he could almost taste it, but Newt stayed away from him perfectly.

The touches Newt kept on landing were teasing and unsatisfying. A light kiss on Thomas’ sternum, a nip at his side, a lick at his neck, the places were changing and he never stayed long at one spot, making Thomas whimper in need.

“You’re being a huge tease,” he informed the blond unhappily when he kissed a wet trail down Thomas chest towards his waistband, and stopped there.

“You don’t like it?” Newt smirked at him from Thomas’ stomach, circling his bellybutton provocatively and Thomas groaned, unable to stop him.

“I want to _touch you_ ,” he grumbled when the blond started to travel back up.

“Where do you want to touch me?” Newt whispered to his ear hotly and it sent a shiver down Thomas’ spine. “You want to touch my face? My arms? My chest?”

“I want to touch you _everywhere_ ,” Thomas growled in response. “C’mon. Let me.”

“That’s not a magic word,” Newt grinned, nipping at his lips teasingly. “No miracles then.”

“Newt.”

“For how awesome that is, it’s not a magic word either,” Newt chuckled, lowering towards Thomas neck and kissing him there. “Although I must admit I’m pretty magical.”

“Just wait when I get out of this,” Thomas hissed at a bite Newt landed at his collarbone, and rattled the handcuffs again. “I’ll make you pay.”

“With barter?” Newt winked at him.

“Please,” Thomas whined, his whole body burning like a furnace, impatient and hungry, and Newt pecked him on lips before actually reaching on the table and getting the key.

“Since you’re such a good boy,” he told him sweetly, slowly unlocking the prison, and then yelped when Thomas hands shot out once freed, circling his waist and pulling him atop of him.

“You brought it on yourself,” he informed the blond sternly. “Told you there will be consequences.”

“I’m terrified,” Newt snorted, resting his hands on Thomas bare shoulders. “Show me what you got.”

Thomas didn’t need to be told twice.

***

The noises were weird. There was strange ticking and then unnatural quietness engulfing him. The bed felt wrong as well, not comfortable enough. He was cold and hot at the same time, and couldn’t properly move.

Thomas opened his eyes in confusion, blinking against the dim light, and puzzlement settled on him heavily. Where was he?

 It took him approximately 1 minute before his brain kicked in, making him realize that this was his office in the Maze Runner building, and he was lying on his couch only partly covered with a thin emergency blanket (as Teresa called the colourful monstrosity she brought once), and there was another body curled around his left side.

“Oh right,” he mumbled, pressing Newt tighter to his side, and kissed his head. They were both so tired yesterday they crashed on the couch and fell asleep there instead of going home. The place wasn’t exactly amazing for sleep overs, but it was enough for their slightly drunk minds and satisfied bodies to make it through the night into the morning.

The room smelled like sex, Thomas noticed, even though they actually hadn’t gone the whole way. It was strange, at some point, thinking about it. He thought Newt would want to, he told him he didn’t sleep with anyone since they met, and he definitely seemed like someone who likes to keep himself out of the horny phase.

But it was also him who kept Thomas low. He didn’t _refuse_ anything, but he also didn’t encourage sex. There was a lot of kissing and making out, definitely. Newt just couldn’t leave his mouth be, and Thomas was too happy to oblige, not to mention all the marks they both left on each other.

It still felt a little unreal. As a dream, or maybe a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t say he didn’t think of Newt waking up and saying he hadn’t meant the dating thing, that it was only a test because he wanted to have sex with him again. It was ugly, this thought, Thomas knew. But he still couldn’t get completely rid of it, and it made him slightly nervous.

He never felt this unsure in any relationship he had. When he dated before, the girl always had been 100 % on board with it. Not that he didn’t think Newt wasn’t – he had to be, at least now, when he actually brought it up himself. He must have given it an enormous thought, since he disliked the very idea in the beginning. Thomas was happy for it – hell, he could have died with happiness when Newt told him yesterday – but it still struck him as… surprising. Odd. Or… unreal.

Not to mention he never dated a guy before. With girls it was easy. Girls were… easily pleased, let’s say. When he got them flowers, they kissed him, a gift made their eyes bright, a dinner super happy. A _yes_ to “I want you to meet my parents” always worked as well.

But Newt? He couldn’t imagine giving him flowers and be successful. He definitely couldn’t think of how his parents would take this, or if they were still even talking to each other. All in all, he didn’t know how to handle it properly.

Two guys dating. There was nothing sweet about it, was there? Holding hands? Telling him he is cute? He would get kicked. Compliment his looks? If another guy did it to him, he would probably just laugh it off, call him an idiot. _How_ do two guys date?!

He could see lots of kissing. He could easily imagine them click together amazingly in bed. They already did, so there was no concern. But outside the bedroom? Were they going to act as if nothing happened at work? Being strictly professional? Well, they never had been. They bantered and flirted, didn’t they. Was that going to change? He just couldn’t say.

“I smell something burning,” a gruff voice interrupted his thoughts and then there was a movement, how Newt stretched like a cat and crawled atop of Thomas, watching him guardedly. “Are you frying your brain with second thoughts?”

His hair was a mess and he looked sleepy and so adorable Thomas wanted to hug him forever. But there was also a strange gleam in his eyes, something Thomas didn’t like.

“Was just thinking how a proper bed would be better,” he tried to joke to make the blond smile, but Newt kept on watching him without a word. “No second thoughts. You?”

“I should have found a guy who can get me a coffee before asking important questions in the morning,” Newt finally responded and Thomas chuckled, dragging his fingers through Newt’s hair to make it even messier. He was amazingly grumpy in the morning, something Thomas really wasn’t used to. He was a morning bird himself, and all the girls he dated before were alright with getting up early without problems. This person just never ceased to amaze him.

He was clever. Sexy. Funny. He had his perks. His bad sides and his good sides. And Thomas thought: _fuck it. We will make it work._

“Say, do you like flowers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Phew, I'm happy I made it before 2014 ended, lol.
> 
> Guys. Thank you so much for reading, your support, your awesome comments, your presence. It had been an amazing year and I'm delighted you all made it even better! Thank you, thank you, thank you. Have an awesome New Year and see you in 2015! Love you all, sweethearts <3   
> If I can do anything for anyone here, write a sonet or whatever (or bastardize it, more likely), don't be shy to ask or anything. Or just talk to me, seriously. It's all good!
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR! <3


	22. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But Isaac is a whore!” she barked and Minho hissed at her loud voice. “C’mon, Tom, you can do better?”  
> “That’s not fair,” Thomas told her in a serious tone. “You keep on saying that. But all you know is that he slept with me. What if it was once too? How do you know he do that all the time?”  
> “Oh my god, they’re really dating,” she breathed out, looking at Minho in shock. “He’s defending him, it’s real.”

“Man, where were you the whole night?”

Thomas blinked in surprise once he entered his flat, seeing Minho and Teresa nestled on his couch, curled under a blanked, looking terribly dishevelled. Teresa even got a bit of a green tint in her face and suddenly the bucket he encountered in the hallway made sense. He just didn’t understand why she put it there instead of under the couch, just in case.

“Fell asleep in my office,” he shrugged, tossing his keys on the table. “How long have you been here? You should have called.”

“And interrupt whatever fun you had been doing? Nah, I’m not that heartless,” Minho grinned at him, even though a little tiredly, and Teresa only mumbled something incoherent. “Not to mention we spent most of the night throwing up.”

“Pigs,” Thomas entitled them with a chuckle. His head hurt too, but he didn’t have hangover at all, thankfully. If he got tipsy yesterday, it was a lot.

“So what was so interesting at work you had to spend the night there?” the Asian asked after Thomas finally sat down. There was a glass of water and Tylenol on the table and he forced himself not to smirk at it. Minho didn’t really have trouble with handling alcohol, but when there was a celebration, he never passed without getting wasted. Then he didn’t touch anything that even reminded him of an alcohol for months, just to get drunk at another party.

“Stuff,” Thomas waved his hand.

“With?” Minho raised an eyebrow and Thomas snorted. Well, he knew him too well, what was he expecting? That he would believe he just passed out there buried in paperwork?

“Newt,” he decided to spill it, even though he could already predict their reactions. It wasn’t a secret after all, at least neither of them decided on it. It was a status; terms they came up with, and if anyone wanted to know, well, why not.

“Don’t tell me he kept you there cuz of that stupid case,” Teresa grumbled, looking sick. She must have mixed too much stuff together to look like a zombie, he mused. “Fucking workaholic piece of-“

“Tesa,” Minho interrupted her with an eye roll. “Really? You think they spent the night there working?”

She frowned a little, skimming between Minho and Thomas and then cleared her throat.

“Seriously?” she stared at the brunet. “You two fucked again?”

“No,” Thomas groaned, giving her an evil eye for being so blunt, and Minho hummed.

“Well, your neck tells a different story, just sayin’,” the Asian pointed out. Thomas didn’t even bother to cover it, after all, he wasn’t some blushing maiden anymore.

“Territory markings,” Thomas countered. “He has them too.”

“Sounds very domestic,” Minho nodded thoughtfully. “For someone who does casual.”

“Well, not anymore,” Thomas shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as he could, as if it was no big deal. It took them several seconds, but then he saw how both of them widened their eyes, silently asking if he was serious.

“Dating? Him?” Teresa spitted out in disbelief. “Oh fuck no, Tom, please. You know how this is going to end? He’ll get bored, break your heart, and it’s gonna make you the way it always does when you break up with somebody. Not to mention he’s your colleague.”

“Teresa-,”

“I think it’s cool,” Minho interrupted him suddenly and Teresa glared at him. “Don’t give me that look, Tesa. He kept on being a loser with ladies. Maybe he’ll score with a guy?”

“Geez, thanks,” Thomas rolled his eyes so hard it hurt and Teresa made a strangled noise.

“But Isaac is a whore!” she barked and Minho hissed at her loud voice. “C’mon, Tom, you can do better?”

“That’s not fair,” Thomas told her in a serious tone. “You keep on saying that. But all you know is that he slept with me. What if it was once too? How do you know he do that all the time?”

“Oh my god, they’re really dating,” she breathed out, looking at Minho in shock. “He’s defending him, it’s real.”

“Yep,” the Asian nodded in agreement and then looked at Thomas. “Man, you’re out of milk. Why don’t we go grocery shopping? Leave Teresa sleep the green tint off. Doesn’t really suit her.”

“I think it compliments her eyes,” Thomas smirked and she only growled at them, burying her face in the cushion.

“Go away, you two man-loving weirdos,” she waved at them and Minho stood up, gesturing to Thomas to follow him.

He didn’t hesitate.

***

“You like him?”

Thomas expected Minho had a reason why to take him out without Teresa, but he surely hadn’t expected this question. He kept quiet until they were out of the building in the snowy street, clutching their jackets closer to their bodies to protect themselves from the cold. It wasn’t snowing, thankfully, but the wind was unmerciful.

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “I do.”

“And he likes you?” another question and Thomas nodded.

“It was him who came to me after all,” he decided to tell Minho the truth. “Even after the initial refusal.”

“You said you hadn’t asked him out before,” Minho pointed out and Thomas hummed in agreement, following his friend through the parking lot towards the road to the shop on the other side of their block.

“I hadn’t. He told me as a precaution, because I might have… suggested. Not literally, just… you know. So he told me he would refuse me immediately if I asked directly at any point,” he explained awkwardly. “So I took it as a fact. I mean… he was polite about it. He said he enjoys talking to me and it would be pity if we stopped talking because such stupid matter.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Minho admitted and hid his hands in pockets. “So what changed?”

“He came to me yesterday,” Thomas lowered his voice, a fond feelings overcoming him. “Asked for a chance. It was… sweet.”

“He asked you for a chance? For you to give him a chance to date you?” Minho glanced at him with raised eyebrows and Thomas nodded, his face breaking into a stupid smile.

“My god, he’s a big sap!” the Asian snorted. “Who would know?”

“I know, right?” Thomas chuckled. “I was surprised as well. I mean… I guess I still am. He said he couldn’t get me out of his head, and I suppose it made him annoyed, because he considered relationships a prison cell.”

“They sort of are,” Minho shrugged. “But with the right inmate it’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed with a smile. “And I’m sorry. I know my relationship record sucks. And you’re the one who always had to deal with my shit after. I just… I want to give this a go, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Minho smiled at him encouragingly. “Give it a go. Just don’t listen to Tesa. She holds a grudge. He called her an Amazonian.”

“Death by Snoo Snoo!”

“You two are made for each other, I swear to god,” Minho face palmed and Thomas couldn’t say he was wrong.

***

Thomas was in a jolly mood until he realized it was already 24th. For an unspecified reason he had his inner calendar stuck on 20th max, so when Minho asked him how he was going to spend Christmas when Newt is now a bonus addition to his life, he freaked out. He continued to freak out for half an hour until Minho took a pity on him, and told him to call his _boyfriend._

At third unpicked ringing Thomas started to get nervous and all possible scenarios flew through his head. None of them was pretty.

“Tommy?” the fifth ring proved successful and Thomas sighed in relief.

“Hey,” he greeted him lamely under Minho’s watchful gaze. “Am I interrupting…?”

“Nah, just couldn’t find my phone,” Newt chuckled into the speaker and Thomas smiled automatically.

“Well, you see, I haven’t realized, but it’s 24th today,” he opened the topic cautiously. “And I know you said you’re not big on Christmas and all, but I still thought…”

“Oh,” Newt voiced on the other side after a pause. “You mean you want to spend it with me?”

“Was just a thought,” Thomas quickly added, the hotness started to rise to his cheeks and he had to turn away from Minho, because that smug bastard was grinning from ear to ear. “If you want.”

“That’s really sweet, Tommy,” Newt cooed at him, but his voice sounded like a prelude to an uncompromising refusal. “But I already have some plans, I didn’t realize-,”

“Oh no, it’s absolutely fine,” Thomas quickly stopped him, gulping down the inevitable disappointment that bubbled inside of him. “It’s just, I completely forgot it’s already Christmas, thought it’s worth a shot.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Newt said fondly. “If you want we can meet on 25th?”

“Would be cool,” Thomas replied as steadily as he could and when he said his goodbyes, turning back to Minho was the most difficult thing ever.

“Well, you tried,” the Asian patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Wanna spend it with mah oldies and company?”

“Will there be punch?” Thomas tried to lighten it up a little and Minho took him around shoulders, shaking him a little.

“For you? Only the best, buddy.”

***

Spending Christmas at Minho’s family house was nothing new. During college they did it almost every Christmas, because Thomas’ parents loved to travel to somewhere hot, and he rather stayed where it felt like Christmas. Minho’s family complained only when Thomas didn’t arrive on Christmas, as if it was mandatory and he had been a long lost son, so it was rare for him not to be there. Once they got older, those visits diminished a little, so when he had the chance this year, it kind of felt like a homecoming.

Minho’s family always celebrated Christmas, even though Thomas had a feeling it started because of him when he first spent it there. They got used to it after, so it probably was a good thing. Minho’s mom always decorated the house with everything Christmas-y it almost looked like in a museum dedicated to the holiday, but one really said a thing about it.

“Geez, it’s always so lively in here during holiday, you feel like half of states come to visit,” Minho commented while trying to put a star on top of the tree and had a perfect view of the present people in the living room. The all kind of relatives made an impressive bunch, Thomas had to admit.

“The more, the merrier, no?” Thomas smirked at him from the tree decorating and Minho rolled his eyes.

“We will see what you’re gonna say when you have to share bed with my cousins.”

“ _All_ of them?” Thomas snorted at the image and heard a giggle behind him from the mentioned part of the cousin’s group.

“Oh shuck, Tom, can you look if it’s not crooked? Have a phone call,” Minho called at him with his phone in hand and Thomas nodded, making an observation.

“He always put it there wrong,” a girl’s voice sounded next to him. There stood a young Korean lady in a dress, looking at the tree pointedly. “See? Wrong as always. But he still insists he has to do it alone.”

“It’s part of his charm,” Thomas chuckled and she smiled at him.

“He’s just too proud to admit defeat,” she noted, looking back at the crooked decoration.

“What defeat? Get lost, you minx,” Minho’s voice sounded and she stuck her tongue at the approaching man and retreated to the kitchen. “Man, she keeps on nagging, she’s like my mother.”

“That’s not as bad, is it?” Thomas nudged him with his shoulder and Minho grinned and looked at the tree.

“Aah, it’s all crooked.”

***

Thomas had a good time. The dinner was awesome, the company amazing. It felt like old times when they were still young and stupid, and thought the world belonged to them. They didn’t get any wiser, Thomas mused, but they definitely knew the world was able to chew them up and spit them out if they weren’t careful.

The people were gradually multiplying, new and new faces arriving, some actually also leaving, so the house was able to swallow them all, but soon it felt like a convention than a family celebration. Thomas loved it though, it was lively and there was always someone to talk to when Minho had to help with something around the house. They never really finally sat down, there was always some ruckus, and Thomas even ended up going to open doors at times, because everyone was too busy gossiping or playing games.

“Ah, Tom, can you get the doors please?” Minho nodded towards the hallway while he was half buried under kids trying to take him down. Thomas snorted and nodded, even though he seriously didn’t even hear the doorbell.

It proved true, when he opened there was no one behind them, but then he noticed someone approaching from the yard, completely hidden in the darkness and the heavy snowing. It took him a short moment only and then his jaw dropped a little.

“Oh cool, I managed to find the right house,” Newt stopped in front of him and smiled sheepishly. “Took me a while. All these buildings look the same, jesus.”

“What-,”

“Sorry for being late,” Newt swung on his feet like a petulant child. “It’s Christmas and the traffic is a horror.”

“I thought you had other plans?” Thomas blinked in surprise, but his body already gave up, because he reached for the man and pulled him into a hug, earning a delighted little laugh in return.

“Yeah. Cancelled it. Not as important,” Newt mumbled, burying his face into Thomas’ shoulder. “Not that Christmas is somewhat interesting. But I thought it’s a good start, yeah?”

Thomas couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> My god, a good thing I actually wrote this chapter yesterday, lol. I think I wouldn't be able to finish it today, haha.  
> Happy New Year and welcome to 2015 ;)  
> Also... the story is so slow. We are in 2015 and all they have is Christmas, lol. 
> 
> Thank you all for your New Year wishes, it totally lifted my spirits! <3


	23. A Bed (you can consider this the end)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s different in a bed,” the blond insisted. “It should be in a bed. Post coital, but still.”  
> “Cuddling doesn’t need to be just post coital,” the brunet snorted and Newt groaned into his chest.  
> “How dull,” he mumbled, snuggling closer. “Is this what a relationship is like after 10 years? Just cuddling and no sex?”  
> “Nah,” Thomas chuckled, hugging Newt’s frame delicately. “You just have to be crafty.”

“You shouldn’t have cancelled your plans because of me,” Thomas mumbled into the comfortable silence of the living room, and Newt hummed in response. He had his head resting on Thomas’ belly and up until now making almost purring noise while Thomas was running his fingers through his hair.

They left Minho’s house after the initial explanation why, at least sort of. Minho was already in the hallway holding his coat and grinning like an idiot when Thomas was going back in to tell him.

_“Good to know he found the house, yeah?” he winked at Thomas meaningfully and the brunet took the coat with a suspicious look towards him._

_“Why are you smiling like this?”_

_“It’s Christmas!” Minho informed him with even a bigger smile. “Miracles happen, right? Go on, tell them bye and go back to munching your boyfriend!”_

_“Minho-,”_

_“Hey, really, go,” Minho nudged him with his hand. “Mom will pack you with food; I’ll help you to carry it to your car.”_

_“You sure you don’t mind?” Thomas asked him with an unsure tone and Minho crushed him in a hug that almost broke his bones._

_“I don’t, now get going,” he teased him with a fake unimpressed wave of his hand and Thomas laughed, hugging him one more time before running back to the living room to say his goodbyes._

_In 5 more minutes when Minho’s mom really started packing him with food, even against his protests (she had the deadliest glare of all, so tried it once and she gave him_ the look _, successfully stopping him from any other try), the whole bunch of people were staring out of the window to see why was Thomas leaving them, and then saw Newt there and dragged him inside and started to question him, and Thomas couldn’t be fast enough in shooing them off, glad for Minho’s interference._

 _They decided to go to Thomas’ place, mainly because it was closer, and also for an unspecified reason Thomas waved at vaguely, but thinking to himself it was probably a territory thing, bringing his_ lover _to his own_ nest _. Newt hadn’t really said anything against it, only smirked at the choice and went with the flow._

_“You have a nice place,” he commented when they entered and Thomas was glad he decided to do some cleaning the day before. He wasn’t an extremely messy person, but washing dishes was a punishment and he always left it there for as long as the sink could take it._

_It was an attic apartment, two big rooms, small bathroom and lots of place to chill – mainly because of Teresa and Minho, who had the habit to take his bed when there wasn’t enough space to lie at. So at first he got a couch, then several armchairs, and also a big sitting/lying cushion, filing the living room to the brink, but at least saving his bedroom from their never-ending presence._

_“Can I?” the blond gestured towards the closed doors to the bedroom, and Thomas nodded, smiling a little when Newt hesitated for a second before actually entering. He shrugged off his jacket in the meantime, throwing it haphazardly at the couch and looking around to make sure nothing offensive was visible._

_“Cold,” Newt called back and Thomas snorted. His bedroom was always like an ice kingdom, another reason why Teresa and Minho stopped going there._

_“Yeah, I don’t like sleeping when it’s too hot, so I don’t turn the heating on when I don’t really need to,” he explained while peeking inside. Newt was in the middle of the room, looking around like on an excursion, but being somewhat careful about it, as if one touch could pop it like a bubble._

_“Bed looks comfy,” he commented after a moment, looking at the wide bunk. Thomas didn’t like turning the heating on, but he still liked to be warm in his bed, so the sheets were doubled with fluffy blankets, which made it feel like a nice, comfortable nest._

_He stepped closer to the blond, gently putting a hand on the small of his back, and Newt gave him a look from the corner of his eye, strangely hesitant._

_“You sure you don’t want to spend Christmas with your friends?” he asked in a lower voice and Thomas’ hand travelled from his back to his shoulder, pulling him closer to his body._

_“I’m very sure,” he mumbled into his hair, kissing his head gently. “I’m happy you’re here. So much.”_

_Newt hummed in response, his hand sneaked around Thomas’ waist, before he swayed them from side to side._

_“You know,” he said matter-of-factly, his hand pulling at Thomas’ jeans teasingly. “Your bed looks_ really _comfortable.”_

_“It would look even better with you in it,” Thomas suggested with a chuckle, kissing his temple. “You want to…? Or maybe eat first?”_

_It was already fairly late and Thomas was glad he hadn’t eaten at Minho’s place, his stomach already demanding food._

_“Eat?” Newt blinked in surprise and them a sudden understanding cleared his eyes. “Oh, you mean Christmas dinner?”_

_“The one and only,” Thomas nodded with a smile, probably too hopeful, because Newt smirked and turned around, pulling Thomas closer to him, touching his cheeks with his thumbs. He watched him for a moment, only standing there and caressing, until he let out a sigh._

_“You’re making me sappy,” he whispered, his eyes suddenly intense. “And stupid.”_

_“I think you’re adorable,” Thomas opposed, catching his hands and kissing his palms. “And sweet.”_

_“I’m losing my mind because of you,” the blond said, his voice raw._

_“Isn’t that a good thing?” Thomas caressed his cheek gently and Newt looked away, gnawing on his lower lip._

_“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Is it?”_

_“I like it,” Thomas assured him. “A lot.”_

_“You sure?”_

_“I’m very sure.”_

_Newt glanced back at him, staring for a while quietly, and then finally nodded._

_“Bed?” Thomas suggested and the blond leaned in and kissed him sweetly on the lips – a fleeting touch, but still reassuring, making Thomas’ body tingle._

_“Dinner.”_

_“Fair enough,” Thomas smiled and thanked Minho’s mom thousands times in his mind for giving him so much food along._

“You sounded so disappointed in the phone,” Newt mumbled, glancing up at him with a smile, successfully returning him from the memories back to their current situation. “Didn’t want to start off _this_ with leaving you hanging.”

“Oh,” Thomas breathed out, a little ashamed. Of course he _was_ disappointed, but he didn’t want him to hear it in his voice during the phone call. Apparently unsuccessfully. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to sound so…”

“It’s quite alright,” Newt replied with a smile and turned around, crawling atop of Thomas slowly, just to rest on his chest like a cat. He was amazingly huggable, Thomas noted. They fitted together like the right puzzle pieces, both now completely full from the dinner and lazy to move it to the bedroom, so they just crashed on the couch, snuggling together comfortably.

“How did you even know I was at Minho’s place?” Thomas asked the next question that kept on replaying in his head and Newt looked at him from under his long black eyelashes.

“Minho hadn’t told you? I called him, I thought you knew?” he pointed out simply and Thomas barked a laugh.

“Well, that explains few things,” he chuckled, kissing Newt on his forehead.

Like Minho telling him to go open the door before the bell rang, or giving him his coat right when he got back from outside. That sly little fox. Sometimes Thomas wondered how he even deserved him as a friend.

***

“Oh my god! I’m moving in!”

Thomas couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling inside of him, but Newt looked so comfortable and blessed out he just promptly laughed his ass off while the blond snuggled into the fluffiness of Thomas’ bed, making content noises of an utter satisfaction.

“This is seriously the best, your bed just won it all, everyone else can go home, let me marry this piece of furniture,” he tossed around, burying deeper into the covers, wrapping himself like a burrito. “Screw sex, I just want to sleep in this forever!”

Thomas had to excuse himself and go laugh to the bathroom, with tears streaming down his face and breath hitching, barely keeping up. When he came back, Newt was smiling at him from under the covers, looking all happy and cute.

“Good?” Thomas gave him a grin and Newt nodded, fighting for a second with all the covers until he finally stuck his hand out of it and reached for Thomas.

“Come on,” he urged him. “Get in here. I want to try this _cuddling_ thing that’s supposed to be a beacon of dating.”

“We just cuddled on a couch,” Thomas opposed while stripping down his pants and climbing onto a bed while Newt uncovered the blanket to let him into his warm cocoon. Right when Thomas lay down, the covers engulfed him like a fort and Newt pressed into him, legs intertwining and hands gripping his shirt from the back, urging him closer.

“It’s different in a bed,” the blond insisted. “It should be in a bed. Post coital, but still.”

“Cuddling doesn’t need to be just post coital,” the brunet snorted and Newt groaned into his chest.

“How dull,” he mumbled, snuggling closer. “Is this what a relationship is like after 10 years? Just cuddling and no sex?”

“Nah,” Thomas chuckled, hugging Newt’s frame delicately. “You just have to be crafty.”

“So much work,” Newt sighed and closed his eyes, burying his face in Thomas’ shirt. Few seconds passed before he spoke again. “You’re unnaturally warm.”

“Am I?” Thomas blinked, looking down at the messy blond hair of his partner, sticking to all directions.

“Burning even,” Newt added after a moment. “It’s like hugging a thermal blanket.”

“Oh, sorry,” Thomas mumbled, trying to give him some space, but Newt only hugged him firmer.

“I didn’t say to get off, did I?” the blond grumbled from where he buried his face. “I’m always cold. This is kinda awesome.”

“Okay,” Thomas stopped struggling and relaxed back into the tight hold. “You’re hard to read at times.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Newt chuckled. “Or you want a manual?”

“I like finding how things work on my own,” Thomas smirked. “Not to mention I don’t have time to read a thousand pages long book.”

“Oh come on,” Newt bit him suddenly and Thomas yelped in surprise. “It’s not like I’m complicated. It would take one A4 max.”

“With 0,5 big font, from both sides,” Thomas pulled a strand of Newt’s hair reproachfully, making the blond mewl.

“You’re saying that now,” Newt muttered. “But you’ll see I’m the as simple as Bender’s love for alcohol.”

Thomas laughed into the pillow and Newt let out a content sigh.

“I love your bed.”

“I love you in it,” Thomas shot back and Newt squeezed him tighter.

This Christmas strived for the best Thomas had ever experienced. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!  
> I STRONGLY RECOMMEND CONSIDERING THIS THE END! The rest of it is not really exactly how i wanted it, and this was kind of... fine end to it. So reading the rest is not "as" needed as ending here :) (unless you like useless drama)
> 
> Oh my god, guys, I'm so sorry for this being so uneventful, asdfjdfjk. It's just pure stupid and fluff or whatever is it called, siiiiiiiiiigh.
> 
> Yay for weekend! I seriously need some time out, lol. And my bed. My fluffy beeed :D I'll be back on Monday! <3


	24. A Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry I kicked you down,” the blond mumbled, making Thomas chuckle.   
> “No harm done.”  
> “Well, at least I’m not sleepwalking too,” Newt pointed out. “Would kick you off and walk over you in one go.”  
> “Might have been painful,” Thomas nodded in confirmation and Newt hummed. He looked around for a while and then pulled on Thomas’ sleeve.  
> “Is there a chance for coffee?”

Thomas usually woke up in the same position he fell asleep, his almost unmoving form during the night was his mother’s worry for several years before she understood he was the rare breed that didn’t toss and turn around while sleeping.

He didn’t remember falling asleep on the ground though. There was one of the blankets draped over him, but he definitely hadn’t been on the mattress where he fell asleep at night. He sat up, confused and only vaguely aware his surroundings were familiar and home-y, and blinked several times when his gaze fell on his bed from where he apparently crashed from. Newt was curled into a ball on it, his feet on the pillow and head the other side, all the remaining blankets entwined around him, and he lay perfectly in the middle like a territorial puppy fighting for space.

It took Thomas few seconds, but then he burst in laughter and woke the blond up immediately, sitting up as if he had been shot, a pure mask of confusion on his face. It only made Thomas to laugh harder.

Newt blinked several times, looking around until his wide brown eyes fell upon the laughing man on the floor. A sudden understanding brightened his features, and he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the sleepiness.

“What are you doing there?” he yawned, looking at Thomas from above, and scratched his belly absentmindedly.

“I woke up here,” Thomas grinned at him. “With you hogging the whole bed for yourself.”

Newt stared at him for a moment, apparently connecting the dots, and then seemingly drawing the only possible conclusion.

“I kicked you down?” he asked with a frown, and Thomas shrugged.

“Don’t see any other possibility. I sleep like a dead,” he informed the blond with a smirk, checking for possible bruises from the fall, but nothing ached, so he probably landed on a soft carpet, or maybe even already on the blanket.

“Sorry,” Newt mumbled, looking away with a sigh. “I guess I’m not really a sharing person after all.”

“I’ve noticed,” Thomas nodded, hiding another snort, and climbed back on the bed where Newt was sitting, looking seriously dishevelled. He had one of Thomas’ shirts, and since it was a little too big for him, one of his shoulders was peeking out, making the whole picture even cuter. He sat down slowly, running his fingers through Newt’s wild hair gently and smiled when Newt glanced at him.

“Sorry I kicked you down,” the blond mumbled, making Thomas chuckle.

“No harm done.”

“Well, at least I’m not sleepwalking too,” Newt pointed out. “Would kick you off _and_ walk over you in one go.”

“Might have been painful,” Thomas nodded in confirmation and Newt hummed. He looked around for a while and then pulled on Thomas’ sleeve.

“Is there a chance for coffee?”

***

Thomas remembered Newt liked his coffee black, no sugar, and preferably in a bigger mug. He made himself one as well, but he was more of a sweet guy – sugar and milk, not to mention his taste in Starbucks where he really felt like having a sweet tooth most of the time.

Since Newt was apparently having a phone call (because when they finally left the bedroom, the blond checked the small device he left in the living room with an unhappy expression on his face and disappeared to the hallway), Thomas decided to make him breakfast before he returned. He couldn’t hear what the blond was saying, if he was saying anything, and he definitely didn’t want to spy on him, so he kept himself busy, and once he was done, he put his masterpiece on the table, sitting there with a dreamy sigh.

He couldn’t deny he felt a little like an idiot. Teresa would tell him something along the lines for sure, accusing him for having his brain melted through his ears or something equally offensive, just because he couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off his face.

But he had a reason. He was happy and giddy at the same time. Nervous, but also excited. Just the fact Newt spent the night was amazing, even though sleeping with him in one bed was apparently a little dangerous. But Thomas took it as a perk, cat behaviour – Newt reminded him of a feline anyway. If he didn’t want to be petted, he was making it well known. But when he was inclined to it, he could be the sweetest thing (or the sexiest, it really depended a lot).

His stupid smiling to himself got interrupted when Newt returned 10 minutes later, already fully clothed and awake, and stopped at the table, looking at its contents doubtfully.

“You made me breakfast?” he gave Thomas a strange look, and the brunet shrugged, biting his toast in meantime.

“Well, you wanted coffee?” he offered with a nod towards the steaming mug. “So I threw something more in as well.”

Newt watched it a little longer, an unnatural rigidness ruled his posture, but then finally nodded, and sat down, reaching for the mentioned life saver, sipping it quietly.

“Did something happen?” Thomas asked carefully. He couldn’t overlook Newt’s bizarre quietness, concentrating only at his coffee and not even touching food.

“Nothing,” Newt answered, putting the mug down slowly. When he didn’t add anything else, Thomas cleared his throat nervously, trying to find the cause of his sudden mood drop.

“Is it about the text or… the call you had?” he dared to point a finger at a concrete topic and Newt glanced at him, frowning a little.

“You’re too nice,” he said suddenly, and it sounded accusing, like something Thomas should be ashamed for. It stopped the brunet from eating, looking back at the blond in confusion.

“Am I?” he replied, uncertain, and Newt made a disgruntled noise.

“People are nice when they want something,” the lawyer uttered, his tone a tad annoyed, like he spent majority of time thinking about it, but without a satisfying result. “But the more I try to figure you out, the less I see the reason. What do you want? Why are you like this?”

“I already have what I want,” Thomas responded a bit taken back and Newt grumbled something incoherent.

“But that just doesn’t make any sense,” he mumbled. “I mean, I’d understand if we were fucking like rabbits all the time-,”

“Newt…”

“But we are not? I was intentionally holding back, both of us. Testing you. And you haven’t pressed it even once?” Newt didn’t let Thomas stop him and then stared at the brunet with strange intensity. “Why? Isn’t sex what you want?”

“I don’t think sex is the most important thing?” Thomas offered, because, really, it wasn’t, right? Of course it was a nice addition, something enjoyable, but being in a relationship meant more to him, not just get it on and have an orgasm at every possible moment. Why had he even had the urge to test him? It was strange to deal with it like this, because it was usually him who was pressing sex more than the girl he dated. They were the emotional types, the ones saying yes or no. And suddenly it was him? Being all happy only because Newt noticed him, because he could touch him? Well, for some reason yes – yes, he was.

“Are you even human?” Newt watched him sternly and Thomas noticed there was even more tenseness in his shoulders now. Was it there yesterday already? Or had it started now? What caused it?

“Yes?” he breathed out, confused, and Newt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And you don’t think sex is important with two people in a relationship?” he asked as if it was on an interview, with camera rolling and an audience waiting for Thomas’ answer, and the brunet cleared his throat, wondering what exactly was this about.

“It’s not the essential substance that holds them together. That’s what I think,” he answered after a moment, as honestly as he could, and Newt rolled his eyes.

“You must be a dream of every asexual,” he snorted, gulping down the rest of his coffee. “Cuddling them to death.”

“So what’s on your mind then?” Thomas frowned, his mood dropping dangerously. “Should I slam you against the door and fuck you senseless for you to be satisfied with _a relationship_?”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” Newt shrugged and stood up, bringing the empty mug to the sink. He rinsed it off obediently, putting it away, and then slowly turning around, propping against the kitchen counter, watching Thomas through half lidded eyes.

Thomas rose up as well, his mind reeling like a hamster on full speed, and approached the blond slowly. This definitely wasn’t something he expected on the Boxing Day, not after yesterday evening that seemed like the best he ever had. Newt was cuddly and adorable, and even against his kicking during the night Thomas had no complains. For some reason Christmas had a calming effect on him, a sappy one as well, so he really didn’t think that getting physical immediately after his lover crossed the threshold of his apartment was mandatory.

Of course he wouldn’t turn it down. He would never turn Newt down, because he wouldn’t have strength for it, but all he sensed from yesterday was a peace and happiness to be close, not some _testing_ if he would grab the opportunity and seize the moment.

His steps were heavy and carefully measured, and Newt didn’t move an inch. He watched him getting closer and closer, his eyes raking over Thomas body hungrily, and the brunet leaned over the blond, trapping him in between his hands, the counter, and his frame.  

“So what do you want?” he hissed, making Newt lick his lips appraisingly. “You want me to take you? Right here? Right now?”

“Why not?” Newt breathed out, his eyes darker than Thomas remembered them. “That’s what’s this whole game is for, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know which game _you_ are playing,” Thomas growled. “But I’m sure as hell this isn’t _my_ style.”

“So what’s the point of this?” Newt asked in a sultry voice, his fingers dancing over Thomas’ chest, scraping over the shirt. “What’s the sharing for? What’s dating for? To feel good?”

“To be with the person you want,” Thomas gritted through his teeth, trying very hard not to let out any other noise, even though Newt was doing a lot for him to break that effort.

“Like owning?” the blond leaned forward, scraping his teeth over Thomas’ chin, and then up to his lips, but stopped before they touched. “Because if that’s it, you can pretty much get a prostitute and call her yours for certain amount of money.”

“This is _not_ about owning, Newt,” Thomas groaned, and his brain almost gave in to another teasing bite landing on his jaw.

“So what is it about?” Newt whispered to his ear and Thomas realized he was already basically plastered over the blonde’s frame, feeling the heat through the clothes. It made his heart beat faster, panicked and afraid.

“I just want to be with you,” he murmured, his voice a little broken, and suddenly he was pushed away, and Newt was staring at him as if he just saw a ghost.

“You’re not…” he started, but stopped himself and chuckled, even though it sounded a bit sad. “You’re too nice, Tommy.”

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Thomas pleaded, reaching for the blond again, and Newt let himself to be pulled close again, even though he hadn’t touched him like before.

“I need to get some work done,” the blond sighed, almost apologetic. “To get a clean table, so to speak.”

“That’s not it,” Thomas opposed, his eyes searching, but Newt only offered a small smile.

“It’s not,” he agreed after. “But it should be all that matters, yeah? I’ll call you.”

With that he broke the hold and reached for his things, dressing up slowly.

“Newt…”

It stopped the blond; made him give Thomas another smile, this time surer, and more honest.

“I will,” he assured him and opened the door to the hallway, ready to take off. Then he stopped in the middle of the move, took a deep breath. In two more seconds he dropped everything he had on the ground and returned to Thomas in several long, sure strides, before kissing the air out of him.

“I will,” he repeated in a hushed whisper. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Thank you so much, Misssushicat! <3 You are amazing!  
> This chapter was so difficult, I can't even say how much. I started writing it on Saturday, but it keeps on turning out bad, then worse, then catastrophic and I couldn't get it right. Siiiiigh.


	25. The Pretending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe he has, you know,” Minho gestured. “Sex dependency? I’ve dated a girl like that few years back.”  
> “The goth one?”  
> “Yep,” Minho smirked. “Should have known, eh?”  
> “Appearances,” Thomas smiled.   
> “But it was an issue. She wanted sex two times a day, at least,” Minho pointed out. “Not that it was a hardship when we met, but man. Not a girlfriend material, let me tell you.”

“He left? Just like that?”

Thomas stirred his coffee slowly and dumbly nodded, feeling like the biggest idiot under the stars. He had enough of the self-preservation to keep his mouth shut around Teresa, not giving anything away, but he felt like he needed to talk about it. He thought about it through the whole day, he really did. He had to hold himself by his sheer will not to call Newt, circling around his phone like a predator, just waiting to seize the moment. The device stayed silent the whole day (or better silent from Newt’s side, it kept on beeping with texts from other people wishing him Merry Christmas and Happy New Year), until Thomas just gave up and called Minho to meet him when able.

They settled the next day in a café and Thomas thought he would just keep it friendly and not bother him with his stupid love troubles (as he always did), but Minho kept on watching him like an eagle, he had to spill the beans.

“It was weird,” Thomas admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “And I don’t understand that guy anymore. I mean, he asked me out, yeah? Then we spent Christmas together, even though he had other plans, he still cancelled it to be with me. And it was great, I mean, we haven’t even done anything extra, just…” He trailed off hopelessly and Minho raised an eyebrow at him.

“Made love?” he offered helpfully, making Thomas choke a little at the choice of the words. Minho was usually very blunt, calling things by their real names, but at times those small notions made him surprisingly tentative about touchy topics.

“No,” Thomas refused, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “We just slept. Without sex.”

“Oh,” Minho blinked and then nodded. “Alright. So what was the problem?”

“I don’t really know,” the brunet sighed, hiding his face in his palms. He slept badly, almost not at all, and it made him tired as hell, but also unable to go and lie down with so many thoughts whirling in his head. “I mean… the sex probably. He seems like he expects us to get it on all the time.”

“Maybe he has, you know,” Minho gestured. “Sex dependency? I’ve dated a girl like that few years back.”

“The goth one?”

“Yep,” Minho smirked. “Should have known, eh?”

“Appearances,” Thomas smiled.

“But it was an issue. She wanted sex two times a day, at least,” Minho pointed out. “Not that it was a hardship when we met, but man. Not a girlfriend material, let me tell you.”

“I remember,” Thomas nodded thoughtfully. “It lasted two weeks?”

“Around that time, yeah,” Minho confirmed it. “I got fed up with it. I mean, sex is all good, but not when it’s the only thing binding you together. Like, having a relationship means sharing other stuff as well, right?”

“Yeah,” the brunet mumbled. “Newt thought it’s like owning a person.”

“Oh?”

“Well, he asked… if it’s like owning a person. He seemed against it. It was difficult to explain what it really means, it seems like he doesn’t understand still. And well. Then he said he had some work to do, and that he’d call me.”

“And did he?”

“Not yet,” Thomas shook his head. “I wanted to call him instead, but… it seemed like a bad idea.”

“A work to do, you think he’s at The Maze?” Minho suggested, his brows furrowed. “I mean, it’s sorta closed, but you can still go there if you want.”

“It sounded more personal than business-like,” Thomas opposed. “I just don’t know. As if dating a guy wasn’t alien enough, now it’s also him being mysterious as shit.”

Minho smirked, sipping from his cup.

“Well, you can’t say he’s not keeping it interesting, eh?” he pointed out and Thomas groaned.

“I just want _one_ healthy relationship. Just one. In my life. Is it too much to ask?”

***

Thomas was usually a patient person when it came to serious matters. On the third day his patience ran out though, crumbling the moment he woke up at 5 AM and there was still _nothing_ , not a beep from Newt. So he texted him, at first angrily, and probably accusingly as well, but didn’t hit send and deleted it 10 minutes later, just to start again. The second attempt was in a lighter note, just _asking_ , not making his anxiousness that well known, and after an initial hesitation he actually did press send, putting the phone back on the night table, and stared at it until he miraculously fell asleep again.

On the fourth day without a single reply Thomas gave up and called Brenda.

***

“I didn’t expect you to call.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Thomas admitted, looking at the brown-haired girl with his hands hidden in his pockets, when they met up in a city centre. “Not with all the shit around WD.”

She came in with long coat and high heels, her hair neatly pulled off her face, and it was a strange sight, like as if someone just _looked_ like her, but wasn’t her at the same time.

“I hoped you would,” she said, smiling a little, pulling him away from the crowd. “What changed your mind?”

Thomas shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but his giddiness was making him too impatient for bluffing. He spent four days thinking about every possible explanation about the current situation and found none that would satisfy him. When Newt was refusing to talk to him, he considered her the only possible person able to answer some of his questions.

“Stuff,” he replied vaguely, making her smile more. “Thought you’d have some answers.”

“I have many answers. Depends on your questions though,” she shrugged and then suddenly stopped, looking at him through half lidded eyes. “Have you missed me after we broke up?”

Thomas blinked and opened his mouth, but she only slightly shook her head and her grip on his arm grew stronger, silencing him.

“Because I have,” she continued. “How about we… talk about it a little more during lunch?”

“Brenda-,”

“I know just one place, amazing cuisine, you’d love it. You’ve always loved spicy food, right?” she started walking again, almost dragging him with her. Her high heels were clicking loudly against the pavement and Thomas let himself to be pulled, frowning at her, trying to figure it out.

They walked for several minutes, her pace getting faster, until they finally reached their destination – a small restaurant, but surprisingly packed with people, and away from the main road. They found a place in the back, seemingly like two best friends, and Thomas couldn’t wrap his head around the situation.

“Were you working for WD when we were together?” he asked her when they sat down, and Brenda pulled her coat off her shoulders, revealing a pretty dress under. “Because this is so not like you. What are you even wearing?”

“It’s usually called a dress,” she uttered. “At least in most of the cultures. I don’t know how it’s called on your planet though.”

“You never wore dresses before,” he pointed out, grudgingly, and she sighed, her attitude suddenly absolutely different, almost exasperated.

“People change, Thomas.”

“You were stealing my shirts and wore sneakers,” he countered. “And almost broke a leg in high heels. Now you run in it?”

“Impressive, isn’t it,” her red lips widened (another thing about her – the make up? New as well, she wore maybe mascara before, but never more). “I almost broke both legs before I learned not to suffer through it.”

“But why?”

“Because I have hella fine legs,” she smirked, and for some reason it was like talking to an old Brenda, the witty one, and tomboyish at her core. It made him confused more than her sudden change of style.

“Okay, you lost me,” he raised his hands in defeat. “What’s this about? Why had you even wanted me to call you?”

“Because I deleted your number,” she replied, and hummed, while she read the menu. “Right after I broke up with you.”

“Amazing,” he uttered. “So what’s the big idea?”

“You have no sense of drama, have you,” she looked at him from under her long, black eyelashes. “Or actually a single idea of what’s going on around you.”

“Oh right, keep on being this lovely, it amuses me to no end,” he snarled at her, the forgotten grudge coming back, and she rolled her eyes.

“And this is why I broke up with you.”

“Weren’t you just telling me how you keep thinking about how you miss me?” he pointed out and crossed his arms on his chest.

“There is a line on how daft a person can be,” she gave him an annoyed look, and it definitely hadn’t helped his mood. “You have seriously no idea?”

“You’re seriously making me regret I called you,” he shot back and she chuckled, apparently amused.

“Naturally.”

He frowned, watching her warily. She didn’t make any sense. It was Brenda as he knew her, not the strangely polite robot in WD, but the weird change of attitude threw him off balance, that for sure.

“You lied,” he accused her after a waiter took their orders. He even hadn’t paid attention to what he was picking, he was just glad the blond girl with an apron disappeared again. “About working for WD for two years.”

“I never said that,” she responded like it was a no big deal.

“Paige said-,”

“Yeah, she did,” she stopped him, picking a napkin and folding it neatly. “To bum out your colleague.”

Thomas blinked in surprise, doing a double-take on what he just heard.

“Wait, what?”

“That’s why I wanted you to call me,” she informed him a little more serious now. “I tried to play it a little cool, like she wanted me to. It worked on him, didn’t it? I heard him shouting at you all the way back to the vestibule.”

“She told you-,”

“I’m working for WD for a month,” Brenda put down the folded napkin and took another one, bending it again. “But Paige has the reign, so she decided to use it to her advantage against the opponent. Don’t underestimate her, Thomas, I’m warning you.”

“But _why_?” he couldn’t understand the reason; it sounded like a stupid joke. “Why she wanted N-Isaac to think that?”

“Because it’s an easy way how to manipulate a person without them knowing,” Brenda answered. “I’ve wanted to warn you about it, but thought you’d call me sooner.”

“Why pretending?”

“Because she would know,” the brown haired girl replied. “I tried to get your attention somehow. But she would get suspicious. It’s not easy to delude her, you know. That’s why I brought you here. It’s openly public and unlikely she has someone here to hear us.”

Thomas could only stare at her. This didn’t make any sense! Paige lied to Newt about Brenda, just to get him worked up? Why?

“Why?” he breathed out as if the word wasn’t used enough already, shaken, and she gave him a serious look.

“To warn you. WD is taking this case seriously. They want to bring The Maze Runner down. And they’re going to use the blondie to make it faster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Dun dun duuuuun.


	26. Empty Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate when you’re not straight we me.”  
> “I’m sorry to break it up to you, but we are both guys. Straight is really not something I can be with you.”  
> “Oh my god,” Thomas hid his face in his palms, groaning. “You fucking smartass.”

“That’s bullshit,” he breathed out, refusing to believe such nonsense. “This is not a fucking movie, it doesn’t make any sense! Why would WD want to destroy The Maze Runner?”

“Because it’s successful, and a threat,” Brenda picked her glass and sipped carefully. “And because Paige wants to have the chance to see it crumble. Buy it. And then sell it piece by piece.”

“But we never had problems with them!” he pointed out with a frown and Brenda shrugged.

“Well, not you,” she agreed. “But The Maze had. They were fighting all the time.”

“WD can’t be so confident about this,” he growled. “The Maze Runner is bigger now. Stronger.”

“And she still wants to see it fall,” Brenda said. “And she’ll see to it. Personally if she had to.”

“What has Isaac have to do with this? She has no control over him,” Thomas opened another point he tried to circle around, and the brown haired girl sighed.

“There is something… fishy. About that guy,” she mused. “I don’t know what. Just the fact they’re calling themselves with the first names? Or that they actually communicate too often for being enemies.”

“What are you implying?” he challenged her unhappily. Newt hadn’t kept secret he disliked Paige, and suddenly he would be all buddy-buddy with her, having long phone calls? Nonsense.

“There is something more to it. She is either after him as well. Or they are somehow connected,” she lowered her voice. “She’s awfully informed about his current whereabouts. She even knew about you. She knows _a shit load_ of stuff about you, Thomas.”

“That’s creepy.”

“It’s even creepier that she won’t stop at you,” Brenda’s face adopted an uncomfortable expression. “As far as it gets her what she wants.”

“The Maze runner,” he muttered.

“And the blondie,” she added, earning a doubtful look. “I’m not kidding. It’s not a coincidence he’s the one working on this case. I saw some of her files, it’s… focused on him, a lot. Not to mention they are _familiar_ with each other. Especially about how the other works. She knew exactly what was going to press his buttons when she ordered me to come to the office during the meeting.”

“So it was all planned?” he stared at her in shock. “The whole drama scene of you appearing out of nowhere to make me reveal I know you, and then to let him be suspicious I’m a spy?”

“Planned to the tiniest detail,” she nodded, her face serious. “She’s really good at it, like an actress with deadly connections.”

“If you know about something you can prove is illegal, you should report them!” he shot at her angrily.

“I _work_ for them,” she hissed. “It can’t come from me. That’s why I came to _you_.”

Thomas furrowed his brows and looked away. This _definitely_ wasn’t what he had been expecting when he called her. It was like a bad movie, with a lame plot, and he just got caught in the middle.

Paige wanting to destroy The Maze Runner? Farfetched. Had she held a grudge against the CEO of The Maze? Or was it because of Newt? As if one person could be such a downfall for the whole massive company.

“How can I be sure you’re not lying?” he looked back at her and Brenda seemed surprised.

“For real?” she blinked and Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If all you say is true, how can I be sure you’re not sent by them to plant this idea into my head?”

“Because you know me,” she responded with wide eyes.

“Yes, and that’s convenient,” he informed her. “As was convenient to point you out at the meeting, to make Newt recoil. And then send you after me to get me to believe you.”

“Newt?” she stared at him in confusion. “Geez, it’s _me_ who’s risking a lot by telling you all of this!”

“If you know they’re this shady, why would you still work for them?” he ignored her reasoning and Brenda snarled.

“Because I’m trying to _help!”_

“Spying?” he suggested and she hid her face in her hands. She remained that way for a while, breathing in and out as if she was calming herself down, and then slowly looked up again.

“Spying,” she confirmed it. “Look. This game is _dangerous_. They want The Maze Runner out of the field. And they’ll do everything to success. I’m trying to help you out, I really do.”

“I need more than your word, Brenda,” he mumbled. Her face fall a little, but she nodded as if she understood.

He wondered if she really did.

***

Thomas didn’t look at the time when he was running through the city, trying to make Newt to pick up his phone. It kept on beeping, but nobody answered, no matter how patient he was.

“Fuck it,” he swore under his breath when he got out of the taxi, bursting through the door of his house, running up the stars and dialling Minho’s number. He seriously wasn’t sure what to think about the new gained information or about Brenda in general. Everything seemed like a bad joke, unreal piece of someone’s ridiculous villain plan.

What did The Maze Runner have the WD wanted? There was dozen of companies like them, even better and richer. So why them? He believed The Maze and WD fought a lot; there was lots of grudge between them, no secret. But was that enough of a reason the WD would start a war because of it?

He run several more steps to his flat and pulled out the keys with his free hand, ready to unlock, when Minho picked up.

“S’up, man?” the Asian’s voice flooded the line, but Thomas couldn’t answer. All his thoughts were gone, all his words died in his throat when he reached the last floor, staring at the blond man leaning over the wall next to his door.

“Thomas?” Minho’s voice.

“I’ll call you later,” Thomas quickly replied, not leaving his eyes from the man, and hid his phone in the pocket. His throat felt dry as a desert and no normal thoughts entered his brain, leaving him stupefied into silence.

Newt was looking back at him, his hands in pockets, and he looked sheepish, like a child that did something wrong and was expecting his parents yell at him. Also tired, like he hadn’t slept for days.

“I just called you,” Thomas let out by a miracle, he felt like his brain wasn’t able to let out a single word that would make sense. “Why hadn’t you answered?”

“Don’t have the phone on me,” Newt replied quietly.

“Are you kidding?”

“I wish I was, it was an expensive model,” Newt offered, but Thomas’ face hadn’t changed. He was pretty sure he must had a murderous expression by now, or something equal to it, when the whole period of zero contact came back, reminding him this guy left him without a beep all this time.

“I’m waiting,” Thomas gritted out.

“As am I.”

“You hadn’t contacted me in 4 fucking days!” he barked at him, the echo of the hallway smacking him back, making him cringe and lower his voice. “This is not cool, Newt. This is actually very bad. Very, very bad.”

“I know,” the blond agreed, suddenly taking an immense interest in his shoes. “I couldn’t… do this sooner.”

“We are not in kinder garden anymore, for fuck’s sake. What’s the issue?” Thomas pressed and took a step closer, his body trembling.

“I was afraid you’re angry-,”

“I am!” Thomas shot out.

“-about the talk before,” Newt ended the sentence without reacting. “And I kept on thinking about it. And I thought it’s exactly the breaking point where only the time will… tell, I guess.”

“You’re not making any sense,” the brunet sighed, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. Today was a bad day. New Year? It sucked. It fucking sucked. “What exactly is that you want? Honestly. Because all I’m getting are mixed signals confusing the fuck out of me, and I’m getting really tired of it. Really, really tired.”

“So tell me,” Newt finally looked back at him again, his face unreadable. “That it’s over. I _need_ to be sure.”

“It’s _not_ over, you huge prick!” Thomas raised his voice again, making the blond cringe at the tone, and he heard doors opening in the lower floor. Thomas quickly grabbed his keys again, and crossed the remaining distance, unlocking and opening the flat. “For fuck’s sake, get inside.”

Newt actually did, disappearing in his apartment without a single word, and Thomas had to take several deep breaths before he was able to enter after him.

Newt stood in the hallway still, not trying to get to the living room at least, and the corridor was bathing in shadows once Thomas closed the door behind him. The light was on Newt’s side, but Thomas didn’t want to ask him for it.

“This is how I deal with people that get too close to me,” Newt mumbled, shuffling on his feet. “Telling them I’ll call. Cutting of the contact. Waiting for them to give up... They all did.”

“Awesome,” Thomas growled.

“But _I_ can’t give _you_ up with this tactic anymore,” Newt’s voice dropped into an annoyed whisper. “So I came here. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“What do you want me to do?” Thomas glared at him, already too tired for dealing with this.

“Put me at ease. Tell me it’s over, so I can return to the way I was before. Laughing at… this,” Thomas noticed a vague gesture Newt did between them. “I’m sure it would make me somewhat… better.”

“I think you’re full of shit,” Thomas countered, his patience running low. “You left me wondering what the fuck was wrong for four days, and then you came back, telling me to break up with you? Are you fucking serious?”

“You think _this_ is easy for me?!” Newt raised his voice too, apparently reaching the brink as well.

“How the fuck should I know?!” Thomas shot back, his rage raising. “All I know is that it was _you_ who fucking asked me for a chance! Who wanted to try! So why the fuck are we dealing with this shit?”

“Because you were supposed to end this!” Newt barked. “It was the fucking plan! I needed you to bloody crush my hopes, so I can get rid of this… bloody pinning!”

“Well, tough luck!” Thomas took a step closer, a little threatening, and Newt retreated by the same amount, hissing at the movement, or maybe the answer, Thomas didn’t know.

“If you want to leave. You can,” Thomas informed him sternly. “But you came here for a reason, didn’t you. So you either spit it out, or we are staying here for the whole night.”

“Break up with me,” the blond ordered him.

“No,” Thomas cut it off.

“Then tell me you love me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Then we are at the dead end,” Newt gave up a sigh. “I hope the floor is comfortable here.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Thomas uttered.

“So they say,” the blond shrugged.

“How long have you been waiting here?” Thomas asked, watching the man carefully.

“Three hours,” sounded the response.

“Where is your phone?” another question.

“I believe in some lucky bastard’s pocket.”

Thomas only groaned at it, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was unreal. This guy was the worst thing that happened to him, really. He just couldn’t get a hang of him, no matter how hard he tried. _He_ was a maze, always changing, confusing the shit out of Thomas.

“Four days,” the brunet pointed out, the memory of the longing span still making him angry.

“And you’re still not fed up with me,” Newt reacted.

“I hate when you’re not straight we me.”

“I’m sorry to break it up to you, but we are both guys. Straight is really not something I can be with you.”

“Oh my god,” Thomas hid his face in his palms, groaning. “You fucking smartass.”

“Too good to pass, you have to admit,” he heard Newt’s feet shuffling again and looked back with a sigh.

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked. An honest question, no bluffs, no tinkering. He needed to know. They had to find some middle ground in there.

“Do you want me to?” Newt opposed and Thomas growled. His patience ran so low he was slowly started having murder tendencies, and Newt’s manoeuvres were starting to cut off his ‘ _I’m trying to be nice’_ reserves.

“I asked first,” he uttered, probably a little dangerously, because Newt stood a little straighter, apparently very much aware what the question meant. At first only silence engulfed them, making Thomas a little breathless, but then the blond let out a long breath he was apparently holding for some time, and it formed the only words that could make Thomas feel like the world exploded.

“Then yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Asdfjdgldgl, so sorry. Guess my mind is a bit in a gutter lately, and so the chapters look like it. I'll make it better, I swear. I'm working on making it better.  
> Thomas, you can do eeeet. Just a bit more, big guy, woo! (he must hate me so much and so do you)
> 
> Thank you all for reading and bearing with me, I know these past chapters were rowdy and confusing and actually with strange plot twists, but yeah, stuff. I'll be good now, and purr only, hopefully making you purr with me <3


	27. New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “See, that’s why I said I don’t want to talk about it now,” he pointed out unhappily. “It’s stupid anyway.”  
> “That’s an understanding,“ Thomas uttered.   
> “Look, I won’t lie,” the blond grunted. “I wanted you, a lot. You didn’t do casual. It seemed like the best idea at the time, to satisfy the curiosity or so to speak. Even if it meant to repeat the performance just once, I just couldn’t help myself. So I gave it a shot, trying to get you where I wanted you.”

If Thomas wasn’t in a wary mode where everything seemed suspicious, he would have laughed. Newt sat down on the couch and remained there like if he was afraid do to any other move, just quietly watching Thomas moving around in the kitchen, preparing something to eat. He hadn’t spoken either, and there was something strangely endearing about it, because every time Thomas glanced at him, Newt jolted a little, apparently expecting an outburst or something equally loud.

“You can talk, you know,” Thomas informed him while cutting potatoes, not looking at him, but hearing the occasional movement. “I’d actually prefer if you do. Starting with explaining.”

“Can we leave it for another time?” the blond asked quietly and Thomas stopped chopping and glanced back at him.

“I think I deserve some answers,” he muttered and Newt nodded.

“Just not now.”

Thomas sighed and put down the knife, rinsing his hands and turning around towards the blond. He was wondering what to say since the first moment Newt left four days ago, replaying all possible questions in his head. But seeing the man here now, hearing him asking for postponing the inevitable interrogation, he found himself unable to push the topic, even though he craved to know the reason.

He slowly sat down next to Newt, feeling the strange tenseness that was coming from the blond in waves, and cleared his throat.

”Just… do you even want this?” he gestured between them, a little scared of the answer. There was nothing worse than falling for a person who didn’t even want to be loved, who was indecisive or who couldn’t make up their mind about what they want. Newt seemed to be all of these cases, somehow unsure and defensive all the time.

“Yes,” Newt replied honestly. “I know it have been… I have been…” He quieted down, apparently searching for the right words, until he sighed in defeat. “I thought you would get fed up.”

“I got fed up,” Thomas grumbled.

“I mean to the point you would slam the door to my face,” Newt added. “Giving up on me.”

“And you wanted that?”

“I thought it would make my life a bit easier,” the blond admitted, squirming a little. “As it was before. If you refused me, it would force me to stop…”

“Stop?” Thomas repeated, urging him on, and Newt’s expression fell a little.

“Thinking of you,” he finished the sentence hesitantly. “Because I tried. I really did. But it was no use, you were still there, and I wanted to see you, but at the same time didn’t…”

“Newt, _you_ asked me for a chance,” Thomas reminded him with a frown how he tried to understand. “People usually do that because they _want to_ be together with the other person.”

“Yeah,” the blond mumbled. “But I did it because I couldn’t help myself. It was… a test. For both of us.”

“I don’t get it,” Thomas groaned, raking his hands through his hair in exasperation. “You wanted to date just because you wanted me to dump you?”

“Yes,” Newt answered and then hissed. “No. I don’t even know.”

“Who else should know but you?” the brunet chided him and Newt made an impatient noise in the back of his throat.

“See, that’s why I said I don’t want to talk about it _now_ ,” he pointed out unhappily. “It’s _stupid_ anyway.”

“That’s an understanding,“ Thomas uttered.

“Look, I won’t lie,” the blond grunted. “I wanted you, a lot. You didn’t do casual. It seemed like the best idea at the time, to satisfy the curiosity or so to speak. Even if it meant to repeat the performance just _once_ , I just couldn’t help myself. So I gave it a shot, trying to get you where I wanted you.”

“Where you _wanted_ me?” Thomas repeated in a low voice, staring at the man with wide eyes from such confession and Newt returned the look with threatening intensity, something Thomas hadn’t seen before. It was consuming and hungry and Thomas felt his throat tighten at the sight.

“But then I couldn’t stop. I can’t stop.”

“But you still left.”

“I… got unsure,” the blond mumbled, looking away. “I… wanted to prove… that you’re not that guy.”

“Who?” Thomas blinked, feeling something was escaping him. Something important, that sounded like he should have known, but he couldn’t point a finger at it, no matter how hard he tried.

“Who’s after sex,” Newt piped.

“Why would you even think that?” Thomas stared at him dumbly. “We hadn’t really had sex since the first time, I-,”

“I know,” Newt interrupted him. “I know. It’s… complicated.”

His shoulders dropped suddenly and Thomas couldn’t stop but wonder what exactly he meant by that. The morning was great, even after the fiasco with sleeping in one bed. Newt was cute and cuddly, until they got out of the bedroom and he… looked at his phone.

“You left after the phone call,” Thomas realized. “Someone called you, and you started to act differently.”

Newt looked startled for a moment, his eyes wide, before his face became guarded once more. He didn’t look like he wanted to react though, and Thomas felt like the chance to get it from him was slipping away like a water between his fingers.

“Newt,” he reached for the blond, touching his face gently, and it was the last thing he knew he was in a lead for. Suddenly he wasn’t sitting anymore, but lying on his back, with the blond man perching above him like a hungry eagle.

“Later,” he hissed at him and Thomas gulped loudly, his body tingling already at the unexpected change. He wanted to say something more, even though he wasn’t sure exactly what, but it must have included some other questions, demanding and pushing. It didn’t have a chance to get out of his mouth though, mainly because Newt covered it with his own in a bruising kiss.

“Are you k-kidding?!” Thomas gasped for air when the blond pulled away for an inch, taking a deep breath. “We just had an argument and now you do th-mpfh!”

There was something painful in the urgency of Newt’s kisses. Something needy that made Thomas’ resolve crumble in the heap of an unimportant nonsense. Yes, Newt was definitely avoiding the talk with this, but it seemed to be more, much more, like he needed to be sure, and he couldn’t wait even a little bit longer.

Thomas didn’t want him to wait.

Heck, he alone didn’t want to wait either. He wanted to be sure, and knew this wasn’t the answer, but who the hell cared at that moment.

So he gave up and kissed the blond back, earning a whimper in return and then a chuckle, that could also be a sob, but who knew. If it was even a little painful, like a homecoming, it was worth it.

***

“Avoiding talks with sex is a low blow,” Thomas mumbled, his fingers gently caressing Newt’s naked back, lazily touching his spine, drawing abstract shapes on his skin.

“But this wasn’t really sex,” Newt opposed, snuggled on Thomas’ chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Not to mention not even _a blow_.”

“I swear to god, one more double meaning remark and I’ll bite you,” Thomas groaned and more felt than heard how Newt laughed, his whole body shaking with it.

“That’s kinky, you know,” he informed the brunet, amused.

Thomas only sighed, not knowing how else he could counter it. This felt right. It was familiar and pleasant. Something he really liked, but what made him nervous as well with the uncertainty. What exactly Newt really thought was beyond him. Now it was fine, but how about in an hour? Would Newt decide it’s not what he wanted after all and leave again?

Or maybe he just wanted to establish the _fuckbuddies_ bond, going on and off again, knowing Thomas wouldn’t refuse him? That thought alone made Thomas cringe and scoff, and tighten his hold on the blond.

“Just so you know,” he said after a moment, finally brave enough. “I’m not letting you go off again.”

“I don’t really plan on it,” Newt responded without looking, snuggling closer.

“I want to be sure about this,” the brunet added, and Newt hummed, shuffling a little to find a better spot. “We are not fuckbuddies.”

Newt snorted above him, and finally propped himself on his elbows, looking down at Thomas with a cheeky smile. His hair was a mess, but it made him adorable, along with the smile and sparling mischievousness in his eyes.

“Who taught you such a nasty word, Tommy?”

“I mean it,” Thomas remained serious, adamant in putting them to the right place, to set up borders, and Newt leaned in and kissed him on his nose.

“Noted,” he whispered to Thomas lips after. “Not fuckbuddies.”

“Lovers,” Thomas pushed it further and Newt chuckled, burying his face to the crook of Thomas’ neck.

“Lovers,” he repeated, trading a small kiss on the skin. It wasn’t a proper confession. There wasn’t any _I love you_ or _will you marry me._ But for some reason it put Thomas’ mind at ease.

_I’m so fucking easy._

He barely registered the fireworks that started crackling outside, but Newt suddenly raised his head and stared into Thomas’ eyes as he was trying to read something in them.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered with a smile, brushing their lips together. “I suppose this is love. Sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Sneaky bastard,” Thomas bit out, his thoughts whirling like crazy at the words. “I’ll show you love you’d think a fucking Princess Bride is a teenager movie.”

“I’m more a Dirty Dancing type,” Newt retorted with a laugh and yelped when Thomas turned them around, trapping Newt under him.

“Liar,” Thomas growled and seized his lips in a raw kiss that made them both gasp after, staring at each other while trying to catch their breaths. Thomas thought he won this round, making Newt speechless, but Newt grinned at him anyway.

“Nobody puts Baby in the corner.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh. Guys. I'm so tired this chapter is actually a miracle. For real. Sorry if it sucks T^T


	28. A Customary Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That was a low blow,” Newt croaked sleepily, his eyes still a little unfocused, and Thomas snorted and leaned over the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the mattress.   
> “It wasn’t blow at all,” he parroted Newt’s phrase sarcastically. “You’re just ticklish.”  
> “Ha-bloody-ha,” Newt uttered and dragged his body to a sitting position, humming to himself. “What time is it?”

Thomas woke up on the ground. He was peacefully resting in front of the bed, snuggled in covers, and nothing really pained him, not even the absence of something softer than the carpet. He sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and it took him a while to understand why exactly he wasn’t lying on his bed as always.

One look at the right direction told him everything – Newt and his kitty cat form made his bed out of limits. There was a bare leg sticking out of the covers, and a hand just above it, and Thomas wondered how wild his sleeping had to be for ending up like this – plus kicking Thomas off without him actually waking up during it.

He watched him quietly for a moment, noting the blond hair sticking up from under the cocoon of the rest of the blankets, and then grinned mischievously. A feather would come in handy now, he mused, but it was fine without, so he slowly reached Newt’s foot and lightly skimmed over it with his fingers. Newt twitched slightly, but no bigger reaction came, so Thomas grew bolder and did it again, this time longer.

It finally earned him a yelp when he reached his toes and then the leg disappeared under the covers, and instead of it a head peeked out of it, squinting against the light.

“That was a low blow,” Newt croaked sleepily, his eyes still a little unfocused, and Thomas snorted and leaned over the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the mattress.

“It wasn’t _blow_ at all,” he parroted Newt’s phrase sarcastically. “You’re just _ticklish_.”

“Ha-bloody-ha,” Newt uttered and dragged his body to a sitting position, humming to himself. “What time is it?”

Thomas watched him stretch and yawn before answering, just because he could, and maybe also because he liked to observe the shirt riding up at the movement.

“Past two,” he glanced at the clock when his hungry stare got sated enough. “Not really time for breakfast, eh?”

“Wow,” Newt blinked in surprise. “I think I’ve never slept this long in my life.”

“Well, it was like… 4 hours only? So you haven’t really slept long,” Thomas smiled and his hands disappeared under the covers, finding Newt’s thighs and rested on them, gently caressing his skin. Newt purred at it and doubled over, hugging Thomas’ as far as he could.

It was true they went to sleep around 10 in the morning, too busy to bother with sleeping. They even went outside to watch the rest of the fireworks, getting caught by random people forcing them do drink with them as a celebration. It was cold and a little windy, but Thomas enjoyed it anyway, allowing himself to forget all the shit that happened, and just act like he wanted to – in love, in a relationship and maybe a little dominant, just to tease Newt a little. And Newt took it, followed him obediently, even chuckling at it, and seemed _happy_.

Thomas called Minho as well, wishing Happy New Year, and Minho shouted back at him – not because he was angry, but because he could barely hear what Thomas was saying, and almost not at all when he alone spoke (as a party person Minho spent the New Year’s party out of the city, on a boat). Teresa hadn’t even picked up her phone, and Minho said he texted her, just in case, but knew she was probably buried somewhere with the new guy she was seeing, and Thomas wondered who the hell was that person that he hadn’t even known about it.

They got back home two hours later, chilly and grateful for the warmth, and Thomas hadn’t even waited for Newt to get out of his shoes before picking him up and propping him against the door, kissing him without warning. Newt just whimpered and immediately kissed back, hooking his legs around Thomas’ waist, and hugging him close.

They made out in the hallway without shame, peeling off clothes all around, but Thomas didn’t care, he just _wanted_ and Newt did too and there was no hesitation, no need to question it.

Then they crashed in the living room, sated and cuddly, and lamely watched some bizarre TV shows, commenting the performance with quiet laughs and amused remarks, and Thomas could say he was literally satisfied.

_“Oh my god!” Newt exclaimed from the bedroom, making Thomas jump in surprise and then quickly run there, thousands of thoughts going through his head of what he could encounter. Newt was standing in the middle of the room and Thomas gave him a questioning look, searching for a reason of such ruckus, since Newt’s face was a pure shock._

_“What’s wrong?” Thomas looked around frantically, touching Newt’s arm slowly._

_“It’s warm here!” Newt breathed out. “I thought this is an ice cave! But it’s warm!”_

_“You’re such a dork,” Thomas rolled his eyes, having an urge to smack him for giving him such a scare, but Newt only giggled, catching Thomas by his waist and kissing him sweetly._

_“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized with a smile, hugging the brunet tightly. “Ready for an attempt number two?”_

_“Sleeping on the ground? Sure,” Thomas smirked, hugging him back. He sort of expected to end up kicked down again anyway._

_They fell asleep huddled together like two chicks._

***

Thomas didn’t want Newt to leave. He tried to catch his attention with various stuff every time Newt finally decided he should go back home, so in the end he managed to hold him off until 8 PM, but then not even an attempt of making him decide not to leave after kissing his neck worked.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” Newt promised him while opening the main doors, glancing back at him, almost shyly. “We’ll have lots of stuff to do, so be prepared.”

“You know you can stay here and go tomorrow with me,” Thomas offered, pulling at Newt’s sleeve.

“I need my suit,” Newt chuckled and leaned in for a small kiss, making Thomas sigh when he pulled away. “It’s just few hours. Try not to miss me much.”

“Cheeky,” Thomas smirked and finally let go of the blond, even though his whole body screamed against it. “Tomorrow then.”

Newt smiled and opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something, but stopped himself and just nodded, squeezing Thomas’ arm one more time before leaving.

Thomas hadn’t closed the door until he couldn’t hear him anymore, the nice, happy excitement slowly escaping with each passing second. He couldn’t help the bad feeling creeping up on him that tomorrow Newt would act as if nothing happened again, and liked it or not it kept him nervous for the rest of the day, and a bigger portion of the night.

He made few more calls to Minho, and Teresa, who finally picked up and sounded like she screamed the whole night, and then crashed and hoped he would sleep at least for an hour.

The bed smelled like Newt and it made him crazy.

***

Teresa looked a little sick. She hadn’t even worn mascara or anything, her hair was pulled back unflatteringly, and her clothes seemed a little dull for her usual tastes. Not like her at all, and Thomas was on Minho’s side the whole ride in the elevator, trying to find out what was wrong with her. She just brushed them off, saying she was tired and hangover, and disappeared in her office.

“Weird,” Minho commented. “She usually talks our ear offs after New Year.”

“Well, you know her when she has a hangover,” Thomas offered. “I think she was just searching for a bucket.”

“Maybe,” the Asian shrugged, walking through the corridor with Thomas. “Man, how I haven’t wanted to come back, you have no idea.”

“I think I have a great idea about that,” Thomas chuckled and his eyes fell on the door to the Newt’s office, his legs slowing down automatically. Minho noticed, of course, and stopped at the door as well.

“Did he call you?”

“No,” Thomas mumbled. “But he came on the New Year’s Eve.”

“He _came_?” Minho snickered and Thomas had to smack him over the head.

“Shut up and go to work,” he pushed him further. “I’m going to munch my boyfriend good morning, if you allow.”

“Be careful so he won’t _come_ anywhere,” Minho jested and then walked faster away, snickering in the distance. Thomas only rolled his eyes, holding himself back from shouting across the corridor, and rather knocked and entered the office.

Newt was sitting behind his table, brows furrowed while reading a file, and all the uncertainty Thomas felt yesterday came crashing back to him. The painful anticipation and dread gripped him tightly and he had to breathe deeply several times before he actually alerted the blond of his presence.

Newt raised his head up immediately and Thomas never felt more relieved than at that moment when he saw the blonde’s lips curling up in a pleased smile.

“Well, hello there, stranger,” Newt purred, standing up, and Thomas felt his heart beating faster in a happy rhythm.

“Have I met you before? You seem kinda familiar,” the blond teased him and circled appraisingly around him like a cat. “Must be the butt.”

“The butt, really?” Thomas groaned and Newt grinned, pulling him in for a kiss. It was warm and satisfying, and Thomas’ body reacted automatically, putting his arms around his leaner frame and almost picking him up with the hug.

“Wow there, cowboy,” Newt chuckled, ruffling Thomas’ hair. “Missed me, hm?”

“You have no idea,” Thomas mumbled, stealing few more kisses as if he couldn’t get enough. “It wasn’t fair you left, you know.”

“Oh c’mon, it was few hours, you’re a big boy,” Newt’s hand slid lower from Thomas’ hair to his neck and then rested on his shoulders. “Or is this a customary reaction while dating?”

“It so is,” Thomas nodded immediately, rubbing small circles on Newt’s hips with his thumbs. “Also very customary to spend the night with your boyfriend, you see.”

“I spent two nights with my boyfriend and I kicked him out of his bed in the process,” Newt snorted.

“That’s why you need practice,” Thomas immediately countered. “Which means spending more nights with your boyfriend.”

“Your logic is sound,” Newt nodded as if deep in thought. “But since now it’s a day and we have this ugly thing still breathing on our necks, how about we get back to work and play lovesick teenagers later?”

“Oh, so now you’re lovesick?” Thomas teased, dropping small kisses on Newt’s neck, as far as the collar would let him, and the blond sighed, baring his neck a little more.

“How customary is the L word?” he asked in a lower voice and Thomas stopped, his heart going to overdrive. The L word? The _love_ word? He almost panicked, even though Newt sort of… said something during the New Year’s Eve. But still.

“Lesbians?” he tried lamely, buying some more time, and Newt groaned.

“Yes, because I’m definitely in lesbians with you,” Newt rolled his eyes, smacking Thomas over his head. “You giant dork.”

Thomas laughed a little breathlessly, his brain freezing and refusing to think.

“I am-,” his mind stuttered, air running out, and Newt watched him quietly, his eyes curious. It never was this difficult, was it? He never had problems saying it; it was just a phrase, not a contract for your life.

And yet his chest hurt, his throat went dry, and there was this fleeting fear gradually returning in waves, in and out, in and out, making his mind reeling and a breath hitching.

“I can almost feel the struggle,” Newt chuckled and stepped away a little. “Don’t fry your brain over it.”

“I’m not-,”

“The work?” Newt pointed at the file scattered around his table, and Thomas couldn’t stop. He couldn’t think, his heart was rabbiting in his chest like crazy, thoughts in pieces, except the one, the main one, the important one, screaming at him from the heavy anxiety and unsure acceptance, but he couldn’t let him turn away, it felt like the chance would disappear. So he reached out, gripping his arm in a sure squeeze, and pulled, turning the blond around fast and unmerciful, hoping, desperately wishing, so, so much-

“I love you!”

And the silence fell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Pfuuuu, thank god for the weekend, I'm literally drained QQ  
> So yeah. Fluff. Yay. Fluff again. All I can write lately consists of fluff and drama, lol. I'm probably broken :D
> 
> Thank you for still reading this, and enjoy your weekend <3


	29. A Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Head out of the gutter, Tommy,” Newt whispered sweetly, nibbling his ear, not helping at all. “You looked dreamy.”  
> “I don’t think I can properly function today,” the brunet mumbled, turning around and pulling the blond closer to him, nuzzling his cheek. “The things you do to me…”

The silence was uncomfortable and tense, and Thomas held his breath almost painfully. Newt stared at him with wide eyes, pupils blown and his body rigid, and Thomas thought that this was it – the line he crossed, the neediness that annoyed Newt, the time when the inevitable break up would occur, even though they hadn’t even properly started dating yet. But Thomas couldn’t cover it up; he just stood there stupidly, staring back at the blond, still holding his arm in a death grip.

“You… do?” Newt breathed out and it allowed Thomas to get a little calmer, even though not enough to let Newt go.

“Is it not obvious…?” he tried, carefully, and Newt opened his mouth to respond somehow, but nothing came out, so he closed it again, then looked at Thomas’ hand and back at his face.

“Let go,” he mumbled resolutely and Thomas accommodated immediately, even before his brain caught up with the phrase and sent him into a dreadful expectation of the worst. Newt passed him and went straight for the door, leaving Thomas standing in the middle of the room like paralyzed, until he heard a soft click. But it didn’t sound like the door opening or closing and that confused him, so he glanced back, forcing his body to move, to see Newt just turning around, his eyes intense.

He closed the gap between them with three long strides and Thomas didn’t have time to breathe or even _think_ when Newt kissed him, hungrily, impatiently, and backed him until Thomas’ body collided with the table.

“Newt-,”

“Don’t talk,” Newt bit his jaw and continued downwards, along his neck, pulling at his tie and peeling it off, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “You don’t even know what you got yourself into.”

“Newt, we are at work-,”

“I’ve locked the door,” the blond muttered, pulling away a little so he saw the rest of the shirt, almost ripping it open, but calming himself in time. He scrambled it down Thomas’s shoulders once it got free out of his pants and then tossed it away, latching his mouth on Thomas’ collarbone, sucking and biting, making Thomas’ mind like scrambled eggs ready for breakfast.

“You love me,” he returned to Thomas’ neck and whispered to his ear. “You bloody love me.”

“Y-yes-,”

“It makes me _crazy_ ,” Newt didn’t let him finish and his hands latched onto Thomas’ belt, trying to open it without looking. “Just bear with me.”

“Like it’s a hardship,” Thomas laughed breathlessly and earned a small smile and another kiss, this time a little gentler, but still intense and burning. It finally made his own body move, participating in the undressing, trying to get Newt out of his jacket. It took him a moment to get the man relent in his obvious effort to get Thomas out of his pants, but once he succeeded and Newt let his belt be and helped to get his jacket off and then even the shirt, Thomas counted it as a win.

The next kiss seemed like a reward, all sweet and patient and it made Thomas to lose his wits, and the rest of his logical thinking, because he stopped caring they were at work, that the place wasn’t the most comfortable spot for this, and just went with the flow.

He seriously hadn’t even minded he made a mess out of Newt’s table, because he pushed everything out of the way and sat on it, pulling the blond between his legs and ravaging his mouth again, then sliding down his neck and shoulders, leaving viciously red marks of ownership, like a signature that spelled _mine_ all over. Newt was making delicious sounds, all breathy moans and lustful pleas, and really, screw the workplace, Thomas was taking this guy here and now, no excuses.

He wasn’t even surprised when Newt pushed him stronger again, making him to lie down over the desk, and then masterfully climbing above him like a cat, all wicked smiles and hungry looks.

All he could think of was – _familiar, good, amazing, perfect, more._ It was probably a little ridiculous, but this was their second sex, not just messy making out without the “all way” description. Thomas never thought it was _that_ important for them to function, a _customary thing_ to get on all the time, but _goddamn,_ he was so excited he could barely function. The sole thought of feeling Newt like that again, to actually _watch_ him losing it, it made Thomas’ blood boil and brain stop thinking altogether.

Judging from Newt’s lascivious expression he wasn’t alone.

***

“I think I have your tie?” Thomas noticed suddenly while he looked in the mirror, noting the dark blue tie instead of his striped one. He still counted finding it as a win, because all their clothes flew around like after an explosion, and finding what was whose took an embarrassing amount of time (not to mention they could barely keep their hands off each other in progress, which prolonged it even more).

“Oh?” Newt appeared behind him and smiled appraisingly at the image. “Suits you.”

He already had Thomas’ tie neatly knotted and didn’t look like he was keen on changing it, or he actually even registered it wasn’t his own (or he did but seriously didn’t care). Instead of it he circled his arms around Thomas waist from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder, watching him working on the knot.  

“Your hair is a mess,” he informed him with a smirk and Thomas hummed in agreement, noticing the bird’s nest on his head, but then realizing Newt wasn’t any better. His blond hair was sticking to all possible directions, and it made him look even younger and actually kind of ravishing (or ravished. Thomas decided it was both).

“You’re one to talk,” he snorted and Newt chuckled, checking his own reflection and trying to get his wild strands under control. Thomas had to bit his lip to prevent himself from remembering _why_ his hair was such a mess ( _Newt’s back curved up in an elegant shape, his breath hitching, delightful moans escaping his lips, and Thomas holding him by his hips, kissing his shoulder blades and his spine, tasting the salt, and then reaching up, his fingers taking a handful of blond hair and pulling, making Newt groan and straight up, leaning over Thomas’ chest, whimpering and cursing, and it was hot, so hot Thomas almost couldn’t bear it_ -), and failed.

“Head out of the gutter, Tommy,” Newt whispered sweetly, nibbling his ear, not helping _at all_. “You looked dreamy.”

“I don’t think I can properly function today,” the brunet mumbled, turning around and pulling the blond closer to him, nuzzling his cheek. “The things you do to me…”

“Mmh, likewise,” Newt smiled seductively, tilting his head for a kiss, and Thomas immediately reacted, pressing against him and taking his lips maybe a little too searingly than he anticipated at first. Newt didn’t appear to mind though; he just raked through Thomas hair once more and made even a bigger mess out of it, just because he could.

They parted only grudgingly, unable to stop touching, when a simple knocking shook the door and the door handle clattered when somebody tried to enter.

“Huh, is it locked?” Thomas immediately recognized Minho’s voice, followed by an exasperated sigh from Teresa, and his heart missed a beat or two. Newt made a silencing gesture and Thomas nodded, really not keen on having them walking here. The room couldn’t deny there was something primal going on and Thomas noted to himself they needed to open a window before letting _anyone_ inside of here.

“Just precious, where are they? If they decided to go fuck somewhere, I swear to god-,”

“I don’t see what’s so important I need to be present as well,” Minho stopped her succesfully and their voices started to recede how they left the doorstep.

“I’m telling you,” Thomas still heard her voice. “He’s playing it both sides, that little WD scum!”

“Pissy mood,” Thomas commented once he was sure they were gone, frowning a little. “That’s not going to end well.”

“She’s always pissy when she’s around me,” Newt mumbled, staring intently at the door. “But calling me a WD scum is kinda nasty.”

“Oh,” Thomas voiced before he could stop himself and Newt gave him a questioning look.

“What?”

“I… may have talked to Brenda the other day,” Thomas said slowly, noting how Newt’s eyes grew colder. “There is this thing I really, really don’t like about this stuff… I have zero idea who is telling the truth.”

“Welcome to my world,” Newt uttered and tried to put some distance between them, but Thomas didn’t let him and held on even stronger. “ _Tommy_ -,”

“No, listen,” Thomas stopped him with a sigh. “There is something going on. If we are going to… work together, win this? You _need_ to be completely honest with me.”

“I’m completely honest with you, it’s apparently a new trend of mine,” Newt hissed, but thankfully gave up any attempts to make Thomas ease his grip and remained in the close vicinity.

“Brenda is working there _for a month_ ,” Thomas started. “Like I said. Paige is clearly trying to… get a hang of you, somehow. The question is why?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Newt snorted. “Why would she lie about her bloody assistant? It’s a meaningless pawn anyway.”

“But still a pawn,” Thomas offered. “And she apparently wanted to use it against you.”

“Really,” the blond gave him an annoyed look. “Because she thinks making me jealous is something she can win the case with?”

“Maybe?” Thomas shrugged. “You have quite a reputation. She may have been afraid she won’t be able to win this, so why not start with you?”

Newt blinked few times, apparently processing the idea, and then dropped his head on Thomas’ shoulder, breathing out tiredly. His body sagged a little, as if a heavy weight settled on his shoulders.

“That’s not it,” he mumbled after a while. There was something sad in his voice and Thomas didn’t like it.

“So what is it?” he insisted, rubbing Newt’s back gently to show support. He didn’t want to press him and destroy the fragile balance they established, but those things were important. And so was the trust. There were unanswered questions around him, some very meaningful, and Thomas _needed_ to know.

“I don’t know if The Runner had an access to our files,” Newt said. “Before we merged. I don’t think we had to yours though, so I guess it goes both ways.”

“I haven’t really checked,” Thomas shrugged. “Why?”

“I have it in my personal file, it’s no secret, although also not a common knowledge,” Newt straightened back, his face a little worried. “But I used to work for WD before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuun (you expected it anyway, haven't you).  
> Sorry for the useless smut. On the table. In his office. Siiiiigh.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and all your lovely comments! <3


	30. Data

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, finally, man,” the Asian sighed, then noted Newt behind him and pointed at him. “And you, my friend, are in a deep, deep trouble.”  
> “If this is about WD…” Thomas started and Minho shrugged, stopping him with a vague hand gesture.   
> “It definitely is, but I meant mostly Tesa’s rage,” he informed them with a smirk, definitely enjoying the situation somehow, and then looked at both of them more carefully.   
> “Your ties,” he said only. “Oh man. She’s gonna explode.”

“You… did?” Thomas couldn’t help but stare. He would never even think about it, there was nothing that pointed towards the fact. Well, of course Newt was aware about many facts about WD, but then again, he stood against them so many times it was _logical_. But this?

“Several years ago, yeah. But I left when Michael resigned. I’m still not sure it was his decision,” Newt mumbled and finally wriggled out of Thomas’ hold. There was no doubt the topic made him tenser, but Thomas hadn’t felt the barrier he used to raise up to protect himself, and that was a good sign. “It actually explains Chick’s accusation I’m _a WD scum_ , if she somehow found out.”

“She won’t let it go until we explain, you know,” Thomas noted and checked his phone – Minho hadn’t let him down, there was a message from him asking where they were, and a warning that Teresa was in a raging mood and it was actually wise to find cover.

Newt nodded in agreement and reached for his jacket, just to find out it was Thomas’ and gave it back to him, before searching for his own.

“She can be a good help if you let her,” Thomas voiced carefully. “She’s just very opinionated.”

“I can see that,” Newt snorted, but it was more sarcastic than confirming, so Thomas dropped the subject and rather unlocked the office. Minho’s text suggested they were in his office, waiting for them, so Thomas leaded the way there with Newt following close behind. It was just Teresa, but it still felt like someone dropped a lead in his stomach for how uncomfortable the image of meeting her was.

He knocked twice once they reached the right door and then peeked in, just to see only Minho there, looking up curiously.

“Ah, finally, man,” the Asian sighed, then noted Newt behind him and pointed at him. “And you, my friend, are in a deep, deep trouble.”

“If this is about WD…” Thomas started and Minho shrugged, stopping him with a vague hand gesture.

“It definitely is, but I meant mostly Tesa’s rage,” he informed them with a smirk, definitely enjoying the situation somehow, and then looked at both of them more carefully.

“Your ties,” he said only. “Oh man. She’s gonna explode.”

As if he called her, the black haired girl arrived just few seconds after, basically storming in like a hurricane. Thomas thought she looked even worse than in the morning, like immensely tired and dissatisfied.

“You!” she immediately pointed at Newt and the blond pulled an unimpressed look while he scanned her over.

“You look terrible, have you been even sleeping?” he reacted without a blink and she only fumed, closing the door behind her with a bang. Thomas cringed at the loud noise, but remained quiet.

“You have some explaining to do,” she growled, reaching Minho’s table and snatching a pile of papers from it. “You-,”

“Worked for WD, we know,” Thomas interrupted her. “How does it change anything?”

She stared at him wordlessly for a while, and then sneered.

“Worked?” she bit out. “He’s one of the fucking founding members!”

Thomas thought the time slowed down at the point. He saw Minho going _wow_ behind his table. He could easily see where Teresa’s anger morphed into a victorious smirk. And he could see when Newt’s _So what_ changed into a huge, unmerciful _Fuck you_ aimed at her.

He could also exactly pinpoint the moment when his own heart stopped at the information, trying to understand the consequences.

Well, for one, he called Ava her first name. That was already saying something. A simple employee wouldn’t probably take such liberty? So there was that. But…

“That’s really _not_ a common knowledge,” Newt growled at her.

“I have my source,” she shot back at him, crossing her arms on her chest. “And I don’t really want to be _mean_ , but your fucking alliances are very shabby, Blondie.”

“My bloody alliances are _none of your business_ ,” he bit out. “Not to mention this one is already _over_!”

“Oh is it,” she smiled at him sweetly, and Thomas hated it, because it meant she was not done and there was something worse coming, something that was going to make him even more shocked, and judging by Newt’s expression she hadn’t been bluffing.

“So the fact you’re having a long phone calls with Assistant Director Janson, and even with Ava Paige personally is just what? A friendly banter?” she countered with a smirk and Newt’s body went completely rigid, and he just _stared_. She pulled out the papers she held and pointed a finger at one of the lines.

“The last call occurred on 31st December, wow. Have you been wishing A.D. Janson a Happy New Year, just with the right dose of The Maze Runner private data?” she asked coldly and her finger slid lower. “Oh, how about on 28th! A.D. Janson again, maybe for lunch together? And on 25th, Ava Paige herself! Must have been a nice talk about the Boxing day, eh? How about-,”

“That’s enough,” Thomas voiced out and it actually did stop her and make her look surprised. “That’s quite enough.”

“Tom, please, don’t tell me you are just going to wave your hand and leave it be? He had been lying all this time!” Teresa pointed at Newt with urgency, and Thomas felt like he couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t also listen to this much longer. Newt was standing there like a statue, absolutely pale, and there was something painfully vulnerable in his eyes when he was looking at Thomas, like he was _scared_ , and Thomas just didn’t know, he couldn’t say what to even _think_ about it.

“A call on 25th,” he only mumbled. “The call in the morning?”

Newt’s eyes got even more afraid, but he hadn’t said anything. He only slowly nodded and avoided his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Holy fuck,” Minho grumbled from the spot at his table. “Why? That’s bonkers.”

“It’s not… what you probably think it is,” Newt let out slowly, his voice not so steady, and it sounded strange. “ _I_ am not the one calling them.”

“But you always pick up,” Teresa immediately reacted. “That’s not a fucking excuse.”

“I’m not saying it is,” the blond muttered. All the fight was gone from his voice, and it was _wrong_.

“Explain,” Thomas demanded, surprising even himself with how cold his voice sounded. How unattached he was able to become, even that his insides were churning and mind reeling, searching for a way out of this mess. He wanted to add _please_ , but it just didn’t come.

“I’d rather not,” Newt said only. “This is… personal.”

Teresa took a breath to shout something, but didn’t have a chance, because Thomas’ mind had enough and leashed out. He couldn’t hold it any longer, there was too much unknowns and he was only a fucking _human_.

“But so are _we_!” he shot out. “I swear to god, I _want_ to believe every word you say, but you’re making it _fucking hard_! I told you I need you to be completely honest with me!”

“I _am_!” Newt shot back, but it was weaker and shaky. “But not this. This is not _your_ fight. Please, Tommy. Please.”

Thomas couldn’t even think. Blood was pounding in his head and he felt sick. He almost missed how Minho asked Teresa where she even got all the data, until she replied with Brenda’s name.

“Brenda?” he quickly looked back at the girl, his thoughts coming to halt.

“She has access to everything,” Teresa said in a serious voice. “I’d be an idiot not to seize the chance.”

“But she didn’t know who Newt is-,” he realized, remembering the talk they shared at dinner, and Teresa interrupted him with _what_ loud and clear.

“You talked with her too?”

“On 31th, but…” he made a vague gesture, trying to remember everything she said. “She wasn’t really that well informed, it was just… a hunch.”

“She never mentioned meeting you in her e-mails,” Teresa frowned, and then a deep, exasperated sigh cut off both of them.

“Good game,” Newt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Bad to know she still got it. Welcome to the club _Fucked over by Ava Paige_.”

“Oh my god,” Minho groaned and sat down. “I’m working in a psych ward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I'm terribly sorry for y-day's zero update, I just didn't have the time, or the strenght.   
> Also, I'm sorry for today's chapter, because I know it's just lots of shouting and accusing, lol.
> 
> Anyway, hope you have an amazing day! <3


	31. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make some sense out of this shit, please,” his colleague ordered. “Get him talking.”  
> “Yeah,” Thomas mumbled. “Just give us a little space.”  
> “You have 10 minutes,” Teresa uttered, glaring at the doors where Newt disappeared at and Minho hissed.  
> “Take as much time as you need,” he growled more towards her than towards Thomas. “Just get him talking.”

Thomas thought thrillers were stupid. Or action movies. Or those needless drama ones, where there was a huge conspiracy led against one meaningless person. He seriously thought it was all crap, just a wild imagination of the creators.

But now… he didn’t know what to think now. He couldn’t even say he knew what to make out of his blond lover. If there was actually a thing that was true about him, all those opinions he said or held – were they just a pose? He just couldn’t tell. Did he really fight against WD? Or was he with them?

Newt remained quiet and mysterious, even when they went through Teresa’s correspondence with Brenda. He read it as well, cringing at the content, but hadn’t said a word during it.

Thomas didn’t know what to deal with first. The fact Brenda could be either lying, or telling the truth, but being manipulated by Ava, or maybe both? It was too much to comprehend. He stared at the text, unable to actually understand what it said, and his sight wandered, reaching Newt, who had been looking back at him, his expression utterly unreadable.

“We need to talk,” Thomas said, almost as if someone did it for him. It just flew out, and Newt was apparently expecting it, because he only nodded, without a word, and led the way out of the office. Thomas followed him as quietly, until he heard Minho calling his name, so he turned around.

“Make some sense out of this shit, please,” his colleague ordered. “Get him talking.”

“Yeah,” Thomas mumbled. “Just give us a little space.”

“You have 10 minutes,” Teresa uttered, glaring at the doors where Newt disappeared at and Minho hissed.

“Take _as much time as you need_ ,” he growled more towards her than towards Thomas. “Just get him talking.”

“Minho-,”

“Tesa, you did enough damage as it is, so please, shut the hell up,” he stopped her with a frown, successfully making her quiet again, and glanced back at Thomas. “You go.”

And Thomas went.

He found Newt in his own office, sitting on the couch with his face in his hands, and when he heard the doors click, he looked up with a tired expression. Thomas hadn’t said anything; he just sat down next to him, sighing deeply.

“What a mess, huh,” Newt mumbled, staring somewhere in front of him.

“I thought I don’t need to give you a lecture about trust,” Thomas uttered, a hint of accusation in his voice apparent, and Newt glanced at him with another sigh.

                “Look… there are things I don’t want you to know. Or anyone else,” he mumbled, looking away again. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean you need to know every tiny detail about my life.”

“Can you stop this?” Thomas glared, earning a frown in return. “Just because we _fuck_ , really, is this some kind of term you feel as normal?”

Newt opened his mouth, but then changed his mind and just shook his head.

“Just… give me at least _something_ ,” Thomas rubbed his eyes tiredly and encountered only silence.

_As expected._

It was definitely the worst possible outcome, just _guessing_ what might the relation with WD be, what could have happened, why wouldn’t Newt say anything. It mattered now, it mattered so fucking much, and he just… refused to say a thing.

Was he a spy? Was he feeding WD important information while playing it that he hated them? Thomas couldn’t believe it – didn’t want to believe it. And yet… what else he could do? With all the heavy evidence Newt didn’t even deny? Just put on the pink shades and pretend he hadn’t heard anything?

“Do you believe that every person you meet in your life has his own string attached to you?” Newt suddenly spoke up, his voice weak and laced with something strange that Thomas couldn’t name. “Some strings are weak. But some are strong, like an unbreakable bond. And even when you want to break free, you just get tangled in it even more. The more you kick, the more strings get attached.”

“Do you feel attached to WD?” Thomas asked in a small voice and Newt tilted his head to the side, contemplating.

“In a sense,” he responded after a while. “Not to the company. But I knew the founding members for _long._ They were a family of mine. But when I wanted to break free, they disagreed.”

“Why did you want to go away?” Thomas blinked in surprise. If they meant so much to him, such action seemed strange.

“They got… darker,” he tried to explain slowly. “Not so… legal anymore. It was pressuring and I hated it. So I left shortly after Michael resigned. Got to The Maze without a second thought.”

“And what they did?” Thomas wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he still refused to leave it be.

“They tried to bring the Maze down,” Newt sighed, almost exasperated. “Ava changed tactics several times. She said she wanted me back. At first it was just few meetings, good natured, the nice talks, how am I missed dearly and other bullshit. I refused to return. She said she understands. But then the WD started to harass The Maze and that was a moment I refused to meet up with her ever again. It only got her angry.”

“But why is she going so far just to get you back?” Thomas gaped, not really getting the main reason Paige could have for this.

“She doesn’t want me back anymore,” Newt snorted. “Maybe it started with it, I don’t know. I considered her very close, we were friends. But now? It’s just a principle I think. That no one leaves WD without consequences. There are strings attached. And she can still pull at them.”

Thomas took a deep breath, trying to adjust to the new information, but failed miserably. Only the stand alone point Newt used to be _one of them_ , a founder, actual _big fish_ \- no _– The Shark_ – of WD, and even _a good friend_ to Ava… what made him to hate her so much? He definitely hadn’t been acting like he wanted to get back on good terms with her, if it was ever offered. He called her _manipulative_ , and _a total bitch_. That wasn’t something you’d say about people you still care about, right?

“You said she was a good friend, so what changed?” he decided to ask, because really, just the sole fact of Newt being all happy around this woman was unimaginable.

“She is really good in getting into people’s head,” Newt pointed out. “She did it with me. When I was in WD, I didn’t mind it. It was like she completely understood me. She had those mother hen tendencies, it felt safe.” He took a deep breath, maybe even waiting for Thomas’ questions, but the brunet waited patiently.

“After time, when I left, it got worse,” he continued reluctantly, fidgeting at the spot. “She still held the leash, every move I made, she predicted it. She knew me too well already. That’s why… the call that one morning?”

“Yeah?” Thomas urged him on – this topic bothered him from the exact moment Newt came back from the hallway and his mood dropped somewhere below zero thanks to that phone call.

 “She found stuff on _you_. She always does it, when there is someone, something she doesn’t know about? Just give her a lil time, and she will,” Newt quieted down for a moment, looking uncomfortable about the talk, but when Thomas remained quiet as well, it apparently was enough for him to continue. “She knows a lot of things about you as well now. Maybe that’s why she recruited Brenda as her personal assistant. Who knows…”

“But that was more than a month ago, after we broke up. I didn’t even know you at that time,” Thomas opposed, but Newt only shrugged.

“The point is… she told me your relationships lasted three months max? One even just a week,” there was that strange look again, when Newt turned back to Thomas, looking him dead in the eye. “A week, really? That’s bad.”

“It didn’t work out,” Thomas mumbled. It was actually the one and only relationship _he_ ended by his own volition. The girl was just insane. “How the fuck does she even knows those things?”

“That’s her field, Thomas. She just does,” Newt sighed and suddenly stood up, walking towards the window. “…I got scared. I think.”

“Scared?” Thomas repeated with wide eyes. “Of what? It’s not like I ate the girls!”

“You very well know I never dated before,” Newt hissed, stopping Thomas from saying anything more. “All I bloody know about relationships is some movies bullshit they feed you on TV, how the fuck should I know what exactly is required? Not to mention I _kicked you out of the bed_ the first night – and the second one as well! That’s really not a plus point.”  

“You were scared I was going to dump you…?” Thomas breathed out in wonder. “For real?”

“Isn’t that your record? Short lived relationships,” Newt mumbled more to himself than to Thomas. “Some people collect trophies, some just sex, making a bed notch, leaving the victim hurting. I just… didn’t want to end like another dumped idiot pinning after you-,”

“Just for the record,” Thomas stood up as well, a burning anger coursing through him. “ _Only once_ I dumped this girl. The rest, the _so-_ called short relationships? Those girls dumped _me!_ ”

“Right,” Newt snorted, not even turning back. “Cuz that’s what people do to a guy who adores them, why not.”

“Boring them,” Thomas corrected him sternly. “That’s what I’m called. _Boring_ and _predictable_. _Unfun_.”

“Bullshit,” Newt glanced back, frowning. “Like you broke up with Brenda-,”

“Brenda broke up with _me_ , fuck you very much,” Thomas growled. “For the reasons I just told you. I fucking know my life better than some wicked crazy-ass bitch from WD!”

Newt seemed taken back by it, his eyes wide as saucers, just staring silently. He even paled a little more, like he realized he made a horrible mistake and was close to fainting.

“So what else,” Thomas demanded. “What else she told you? That I’m eating the hearts of virgins or do dark, satanic rituals?”

Newt only shook his head, but no words came. He took a deep breath, then another.

“So why didn’t you just ask?” Thomas pressed it. “She told you all this and you decided to believe her? Just like that? Knowing, literally _knowing_ she’s manipulative? You _warned_ me yourself!”

“I…” Newt gulped loudly, his expression shaken. “I wanted to get it out of you… the reason or something, why me, why now.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas took a step forward, but Newt inched closer to the window, so he stopped.

“You had never been with a guy before,” the blond pointed out, his voice laced with worry. “So why me? But… you weren’t answering as I needed, so I chickened out. I wanted to think about it, analyse it. I reached to the conclusion you just don’t care about that, so I wanted to prove Ava wrong. When I came back… I couldn’t really tell you why I left before, could I? So I improvised.”

“So it was a lie? What you said about the leaving?” Thomas asked in disbelief and Newt shook his head.

“Not entirely. Some of it, yeah. But not entirely.”

“That you asked me for a chance because you wanted me to break up with you?”

“That’s… a lie, yeah,” Newt nodded, sheepish, and probably also ashamed. “But… When I came back on 31th, I really expected you to end it. And it felt it would solve things. As well as proved Ava right. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, but I didn’t want to make you angrier.”

“Newt, this is not okay,” Thomas whispered. “This is actually very, very bad.”

“I know,” the blond nodded quietly.

“How can I be sure that _now_ you’re telling the truth?”

He really couldn’t tell. It was twisted to the point of him not being able to tell, at all, which was the right decision.

“I suppose you can’t,” Newt offered. “Except of trusting me.”

“I trusted you,” Thomas sighed. “And see where it brought us.”

“Then trust me one last time,” Newt faced him with a resolute expression. “One last time. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

“Newt…”

“Please.”

Thomas took a deep breath and made a decision.

“One last time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> So yeah. Talking, lots of talking. Sorry for the zero action, just... talking.


	32. A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What-!”  
> “Newt,” Thomas gave the blond a frowny look and Newt’s expression turned meek again.  
> “My apologies,” he glanced back at Teresa. “I know you meant only well by trying to get shit about me.”  
> “Newt!”  
> “Sorry again.”

“What is _he_ doing here?”

“ _He_ is working here,” Newt replied sternly on Theresa’s unhappy inquiry. “With a proper contract, thank you very much.”

“Proper my ass,” she hissed, looking at Thomas as if she was accusing him from murder. “What had he told you that your brain turned into mush again?”

“Teresa…” Thomas sighed. “Leave it be. We will deal with _this_ later. Now the case.”

“So he can tell them our tactics?” she snorted. “Brilliant.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m _not_ a spy,” Newt crossed his arms on his chest, his posture defensive and strong, as if the person Thomas spoke to in his office was just a dream. “On the contrary it had been _you_ who gave them tons of information against us, by your bloody correspondence with _Brenda_.”

“What-!”

“Newt,” Thomas gave the blond a frowny look and Newt’s expression turned meek again.

“My apologies,” he glanced back at Teresa. “I know you meant only well by trying to get shit about me.”

“Newt!”

“Sorry again.”

“Oh my god,” Teresa groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking like she was just an inch from snapping.  

“So what have you found out?” Thomas rather focused on Minho, who watched them sitting at his desk, and his expression was clearly amused. He straightened back up, turning the notebook towards Thomas, and shrugged.

“Well. According to a little probing, all the e-mails came from the same IP _and_ computer. Also, according to IP, it was _not_ located in the WD building. It pointed out to this address,” he clicked at another tab, showing them the location.

“That’s not Brenda’s house,” Thomas commented. “Unless she moved.”

“It’s not a public place either,” Minho nodded. “Like a café or something.”

“That’s because it’s a house of Ava,” Newt commented behind them, looking disinterested. “Her old house, that is. I don’t understand why you keep dragging the secretary into this; it was _clearly_ not her who sent the e-mails.”

“And you _clearly_ are very sure about that,” Teresa growled from the couch she was sitting on. “Mind to share?”

“No.”

“Newt,” Thomas sighed and the blond gave him a small smile.

“Sorry. Wanted to fulfil her expectations,” he offered, earning another growl from the girl. “What I meant is – it’s screaming _Ava_ all over the place. It’s her style. Not to mention if Tommy met with her pawn-,”

“Brenda,” Thomas nudged his shoulder with a frown.

“Her Brenda pawn then. She would have mentioned it to Chick-,”

“Teresa.”

“-right?” Newt finished the speech, ending up with Thomas rolling his eyes, Teresa looking like she just went feral, and Minho smirking like a loon.

“She had been awfully well informed,” Minho added. “For a secretary working there for a month?”

“Assistant,” Teresa hissed. “Meaning _an access_ to Paige’s personal files!”

“Ava never let anyone manage her schedule, not to mention personal files in her computer,” Newt gave her a look. “It’s just not her style.”

“Because you know her the best,” she shot back and Newt smiled, but it wasn’t genuine or happy. It was a dangerous smile, maybe a little evil as well.

“Yes,” he said only. “Because I know her the best.”

“Thomas!” Teresa barked out. “This is ridiculous, don’t you see what’s going on?!”

“Can you two calm the fuck down?” the brunet raised his voice in annoyance and Teresa grumbled something incoherent, while Newt actually looked sheepish. “ _This_ is bigger than your antipathy, so please! We need to gain an upper hand in this.”

“Jorge,” Newt said suddenly, looking surprised himself when he said that.

“Jorge?” Thomas repeated. The name sounded familiar – wasn’t that the guy who Newt blamed from spying? “You mean the WD spy?”

“Yes,” Newt nodded thoughtfully. “That guy works for them for _years_ now. He knows ton of dirt about them. We get him, we have a chance.”

“Yes, because getting a spy from them is the easiest and smartest thing to do,” Teresa sneered. “Genial.”

“She’s kinda right?” Minho offered, looking confused. “I don’t really see a point in that.”

Newt sighed, looking away for a while, as if he was searching for the right words. He tapped his fingers against the desk few times and then made a vague hand gesture.

“There is this thing,” he started. “Jorge wanted to leave as well. _Years_ ago. Even before me. The directive board was using him for their dirty jobs as long as I remember. He got fed up, but…”

“They didn’t let him go away?” Thomas suggested, earning an appraising look from the blond.

“Yeah. Jorge has a family, you see. A wife, two kids,” Newt continued. “They’re keeping him in check with them.”

“Sure,” Teresa snorted. “That’s not farfetched at all. So they’ll send their assassins if he won’t do their dirty job? Yeaaaah.”

“Oh please,” he rolled his eyes, sighing. “Do you think this is some action movie or what? Assassins, yeah. You watch too much TV, dear.”

“Look, smartass-,”

“Enough,” Thomas gritted out, fed up with their bickering. They were like two stupid kids on one small playground, trying to gain an upper hand, and they seriously didn’t have time for that. Newt gave her an evil look, but then actually turned away from her, looking at Thomas and Minho equally.

“Jorge is not a US citizen,” he pointed out, ignoring Teresa’s growls behind him. “Neither is his wife. They can be deported with one snap of Ava’s fingers.”

“Ooooh,” Minho let out, finally understanding. “That’s fucking smart, man!”

“Very low as well,” Thomas mumbled. “But still, that’s a dangerous game. How do you want him to help us? We’re not able to grant him enough protection.”

“If the plan works out, the WD will be in shambles, not having any power over it anymore,” Newt replied. “And I really, really want to see WD fall after this shit.”

“It’s a massive company,” Minho opposed. “Not a small task.”

“It has many dark secrets,” Newt countered. “It’ll take down itself. Just let it be revealed.”

“ _How_?”

“Just let me talk to Jorge-,”

“No way,” Teresa reacted immediately. “No way in the hell you’ll do that.”

“Tesa,” Minho called her out with a frown. “You’re really, really not helping today.”

“I’m sorry, but have you all lost your minds? So there are all those things we learned about him – maybe sent by Paige, so what? He _confirmed_ it! Had he told you why two leaders of WD called him?!” Teresa responded fiercely, looking at Thomas with an accusatory tone, and he held her gaze without a flinch.

“Yeah,” he said calmly. “It has nothing to do with this.”

“So you won’t tell,” she stated, disappointment dripping from her features.

“No,” he nodded calmly, noting Newt’s little hitch in breath at it. “I won’t. You have to trust me on this.”

“You’re all crazy,” she exclaimed, snatched the papers, and stormed out of the office like a tidal wave.

“Oh well,” Minho commented. “You should give her a fruit basket later. With lots of chocolate. And no fruit.”

***

Thomas never really wondered what _being in love_ really meant. A pragmatic man like Minho would say it was about chemical reactions in your brain, all those tiny little explosions all over your synapses, playing a hockey with the rational part of mind.

He alone took it as it was – a feeling you cared about somebody. An urge to spend more time with them. To protect them. It was nice, and comfortable, being in love.

Until Newt happened and changed the pretty, languid flow of _nice_ into fire, an explosive force of _want_ and _need_. It wasn’t this pretty, romantic _oh I like her, she is fine_ , nor _a hug here, a kiss there_. Suddenly all he could think about was _a touch_ , _a hold_ , _a deep, hungry kiss_.

He wondered if that was love. An evident attraction that was just one part of possible outcomes. But then Newt showed his other side, his vulnerable and unsure part that made Thomas go into an overdrive of _need to protect, need to hold close and coo at him, need to hug him and kiss the top of his head_.

So was that love?

Thomas agreed it was. It made him stupid anyway. Trustful, maybe to the point of idiocy. Maybe Teresa was right and they were stupid to believe him _again_ , even after all those secrets and half-truths he spouted around.

But as far as he knew, Minho wasn’t in love. And he believed it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t only the pink shades, it was serious, and they needed to resolve it soon.

Newt asked for his trust. And Thomas was, maybe foolishly, ready to give it all to him, and then some more.

“Lost in thoughts?”

Thomas blinked, chasing away the weird thoughts that kept on floating in his mind like ghosts, and smiled at the blond sitting across the table with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands, warming up. He reminded him of a kid like this, hogging the mug, eyes shiny and happy with its content. It was getting chilly outside, and when Newt saw they served hot chocolate in the restaurant, he immediately picked that.

“A little,” he admitted, and Newt flexed his fingers, reaching across the table to get a hold of Thomas’ hand.

“Tommy,” he gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll work out.”

“Yeah,” Thomas squeezed his hand in return. “I know.”

And he honestly believed that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Sorry. Lots of talking again QQ
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I love you all, seriously, this is so nice! <3


	33. A Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stop being so cute,” he ordered him, but his tone was fond, and corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Wait for me?”  
> “Always,” Thomas smiled, easier now, calmer, and Newt made an impatient noise in the back of his throat and moved back, kissing Thomas gently on lips, running his fingers thorough his hair.  
> “Thank you,” Newt whispered, pulling away just a little. “For this chance.”

“Stop fidgeting,” Newt caught Thomas’ hands in a firm, sure grip, and the brunet took a deep breath, nodding slowly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in return, returning the squeeze. “Just nervous.”

“Stop being nervous,” Newt smiled, all assuring, his body completely relaxed. Thomas wondered how, his own frame was seized in a death grip, shaky and tense, and they weren’t even at the place yet. But he already couldn’t’ sleep, nor eat in the morning, he just had this dreadful fear planted inside of him. He definitely envied Newt’s complete control over this, even though meeting Jorge was important – and _dangerous_. But Newt assured him it was alright, Jorge wasn’t an _enemy_ , but more like a victim. The only problem posed the WD agents probably watching every move of their _spy_ , so Newt warned them they had to _play along_.

There was no way Paige wouldn’t know about the meeting, maybe even in advance. They were expecting it, Thomas was aware. But it still felt on edge.

They had the rendezvous in restaurant, apparently a good meeting point, because it was the same one Brenda brought him to on New Years’. Newt parked the car at the parking lot and turned to Thomas with serious expression.

“I want you to wait in the car,” he said calmly. “Let me handle this.”

“Newt…” Thomas started, but Newt shook his head, leaning in and kissed Thomas on lips shortly.

“Trust me. This is for the best. Let me talk to him alone,” he asked him softly. “There are going to be eyes and ears. I don’t want you to get involved more than you already are.”

Thomas wanted to oppose somehow, but no words came, so he managed only to nod, gulping down the bad feeling growing inside of him. Teresa’s voice screaming at him for being a hopeless idiot was loud and annoying, but he did his best to shut her down.

“Give me a few,” Newt said only and exited the car, only to stop right in front of it, turning back. “This looks kinda shady, doesn’t it.”

“Yes,” Thomas replied with honesty and passed on the driver’s seat, leaned out from the window. “But it’s fine. You know what you’re doing. I get it.”

The blond let out a long, defeated sigh, and glanced back at Thomas with exasperation.

“Stop being so cute,” he ordered him, but his tone was fond, and corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Wait for me?”

“Always,” Thomas smiled, easier now, calmer, and Newt made an impatient noise in the back of his throat and moved back, kissing Thomas gently on lips, running his fingers thorough his hair.

“Thank you,” Newt whispered, pulling away just a little. “For this chance.”

Thomas wanted to say something smart and witty, but his brain didn’t really work, so he just stole one more kiss, making Newt grin, and then watched him leave, running over the road and disappearing in the restaurant.

He sat back down properly, pulling out his phone with a sigh, and wondered what was he supposed to do now while waiting. He remembered Minho downloaded a game he wanted him to try last time.

“ _Badland?_ ” he wondered, going through his menu and seeing an unfamiliar icon. He clicked it, his display went dark with a logo and then it blinked unhappily, minimizing the game and putting forward a phone call with an unfamiliar number.

He watched it for a moment, a strange tingling coursing through his body, and then answered with raised eyebrows, checking the restaurant entrance once more

“ _Hello Thomas_ ,” Ava Paige’s voice flooded from the speaker, greeted him smoothly, her tone velvety and warm. “ _Don’t look so alarmed. I was wondering if you have a moment for me?_ ”

“Miss Paige,” Thomas bit out, immediately looking around, his heart beating wildly. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“ _You don’t need to sound so defensive, dear,_ ” she responded with amusement. “ _All I want is to talk._ ”

“By all means,” he turned back in his seat, not spotting anything worthwhile, and frowned.

“ _Personally, if you don’t mind_ ,” she added. “ _Fear not. I’m not kidnapping you, or whatever thought you might have. A conversation is all I want from you._ ”

“Why would I want to do that?” he shot back, one of his free hands gripping the steering wheel as if it was the only thing that could keep him grounded.

“ _I’m very well aware what is Isaac trying to accomplish by meeting with one of my workers_ ,” she responded with a strange serenity in her voice. “ _I’m not stopping him. He’s a smart boy, he can pull anything he wants if he feels like it’s the best choice. But you, my dear boy. You know only one side of the story, don’t you? Maybe you’d be interested in knowing more._ ”

“If you have something to say, say it now. I’m sure as hell not meeting with you behind his back,” he growled into the phone and earned a sound laughter from the other side.

“ _No wonder he’s fond of you. Such loyalty,_ ” she chuckled. “ _He treasures that quality in people._ ”

“Charming,” he uttered.

Why the hell would she call him? Was she trying to gain an upper hand by making Thomas wonder again? Spouting some secrets Newt didn’t want him to know, only to stab a wedge between them once more? He had enough of that, that for sure.

The line got quiet suddenly, unnaturally so, and when Thomas looked at his phone, a click sounded from the door opening, and a woman slinked into the car, sitting next to him in her white costume and with her hair pulled back, all pristine and perfect. He stared at her with wide eyes as if he’d seen a ghost, and she looked back at him, unimpressed.

“Well, when this is out of the way,” Ava spoke. “We met personally only briefly, I couldn’t get a good look at you.”

“What are you even _doing_?” Thomas breathed out, still shocked from the twist of events, and she let out a sigh.

“I can imagine how things in The Maze Runner are now. I’m also sure Isaac already talked to you about his past union with WD.”

“Of course you can imagine, ears and eyes everywhere I assume?” he refused to shrink back to his side and remained stubbornly sitting as he was before she appeared.

“I just know his ways,” she replied calmly. “After all it was me who raised him to be what he is now. A lone child, eager to prove himself… I know he’s not in WD anymore, but he will always be part of our family, and nothing can change that. And family look out for each other.”

“All I can see is a person trying to sabotage his life,” Thomas grumbled, giving her an evil eye. “Playing with him like he’s some kind of puppet for you to control.”

“Like it or not, I’m doing this to protect him,” she said without hesitation. “For you, Isaac is maybe a confident young man, who is doing his job as one of the best. For me… he’s but a boy, unsure and scared. Balancing on the edge. He already slipped once, and I won’t allow it to happen again.”

“You don’t make any sense,” Thomas stared at her with suspicion.

“See,” she gestured towards him. “You know _nothing_ of his true self. He shows you what he wants you to see. He’s good at that; he’d lived with a mask for so long.”

“Look-,”

“I know he calls me a manipulative bitch,” she interrupted him coldly. “A calculative hyena. A person who wants to own the world. I’m a businesswoman, Thomas. I make money and I’m good at it. With The Maze, it was something else.”

“I don’t want to listen to this,” he shook his head. “Just leave.”

“Stubborn,” she chuckled, looking at the entrance of the restaurant with a smile. “Just like he is.”

“Yes, thank you,” he bit out, refusing to share her mood.

“Just tell me one thing,” she focused back at Thomas, her eyes searching, and curious. “Do you love him?”

“What?” he blinked in shock at such inquiry. It was bizarre and absolutely out of place, but she held his gaze, watching him silently, waiting for an answer. “What is that to you?”

“He’s my family, Thomas. I gave him all the care in the world. I want him safe and happy.”

“And you were doing such a great job at it lately,” he hissed, making her frown a little.

“I know,” she replied only. “I’ve taken it too far. He’s so young. He thinks he‘s ready to live his own life. But all he did was stumble and fall, and almost lost his fight. I’m not happy to play the evil witch, but if that’s what keeps him guarded and on his feet, I’ll as well keep at it.”

“He’s doing great,” he responded with a serious voice. “He already has a great reputation, The Maze… The Maze Runner made him the acting lawyer, he leads the department.”

“I’m aware,” she smiled, and it was honest, pleased smile that made Thomas surprised. “Why do you think it happened?”

“He worked hard,” he shot back quickly.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Because I kept him busy. I kept on attacking. And he hadn’t relented ever since. He got stronger and surer. His career is at its peak.”

“Oh right, so you kept on harassing The Maze because you wanted to what. _Train him_?”

“That sounds very clinical,” she pointed out. “But yes.”

“Riiiight.”

“He needs to be busy,” she continued without a pause. “He has self-destructive tendencies when idle. Searching out amusement or problems in general. You are, after all, one of his adventures, or am I wrong?”

“I’m his _lover_ ,” Thomas bit out – it flew out of him immediately and without delay, even before he could actually thought about it.

“Yes,” she nodded. “That’s why I’m asking. Do you love him?”

“Yes!” he countered, and it was more a snarl than a confession, but it made her smile anyway.

“Good,” she concluded. “That’s all I needed to know. Thank you, Thomas. It was a lovely chat.”

Before he could even react, she left the car without another word, closing the door behind her and leaving the vicinity with sure, rhythmic steps.

 _Well, fuck me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Weeeeeeeeeeell. The talking never stops, right.  
> Anyway, yeah. It's almost the end of the series, I promise :) I know it had been a drag, haha :D Thank you for sticking with me the whole ride! <3


	34. Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not used to that from people, that’s all,” he flicked Thomas’ forehead, pushing himself precisely atop of Thomas, looking down at him with a smirk. “And how’s the chain and a ball treating you?”  
> “How sweet,” Thomas snorted, holding the blond around his waist, rubbing his hips gently. “So far, so good. You’re trainable.”  
> “Mean,” Newt commented.  
> “Adorable,” Thomas opposed.  
> “Shut up.”

It was Thomas’ first automatic reaction – to immediately go check. He couldn’t see Ava anymore, she disappeared like a ghost in the midst of people passing by, and he couldn’t stop but wonder what exactly her sudden dropping by meant. He locked the car and approached the restaurant in a fast pace, a cold hand closing around him from the possible outcomes waiting for him there. He slinked through the entrance inside with a familiar setting welcoming him, and stopped right at the door, scanning the interior carefully. It took him a moment before he finally found the blond sitting with his back towards the entrance, talking lively with an older Hispanic guy in a baseball hat.  He looked older than Newt, maybe around 30, and had one of those trustworthy faces you smile at without thinking. Must have been the reason Ava chose him after all.

Newt looked safe and unbothered. His body language was lively and excited, and the other man had an actual smile on his lips. So why Ava paid Thomas a visit? Because she knew Newt was busy with her _spy_ , so she could talk to Thomas without getting bothered? Or did she have other ulterior motive? He just couldn’t figure her out.

Was she trying to make him believe she was merely protecting Newt with all those attacks towards The Maze? The deception? The double game? The calls? It just didn’t make any sense.

There was no one else with Newt and _Jorge_. Just two of them, sitting there with glasses and talking, so she hadn’t sent anyone after Newt. But why? When she knew _exactly_ where and when they were going to meet? She must have known what Newt had in mind, what he had been plotting against her. Had she been expecting it? Did she take precaution already? Waiting for him to get caught in another trap she laid? Nothing pointed towards it.

Thomas felt like he should worry, but… he couldn’t find the right reason for it. So he took a deep breath, calmed himself down and left the restaurant again.

For now… Newt was safe.

***

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Thomas blinked few times, focusing again, finally noticing Newt standing next to the car, smirking at him. He seemed to be in a good mood, and Thomas refused to ruin it, so he smiled back, switching his seats again and letting Newt climb into the driver’s seat.

“How did it go?” he asked, pulling at the seat belt, but only silence greeted him back. He glanced at the blond, confused by the sudden quietness, and Newt was staring back at him, his brows furrowed unhappily.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

“She was here, wasn’t she,” the blond uttered, making Thomas’ heart stop. “It reeks like her in here.”

“How do you-,”

“You keep on forgetting I know her for too long,” Newt interrupted him with a frown and started the car, his jolly mood gone. “I should have expected this.”

“Not sure how,” Thomas replied with a sigh, watching the passing buildings how Newt pulled away from the parking lot. “She… hadn’t really said anything bad though.”

“Is that so,” Newt kept his eyes on the road. “So why did she bother you with, going all the way here?”

“I’m not really sure myself,” Thomas admitted. “It was like… asking if you’re happy?”

Newt snorted, but didn’t comment on it. Thomas thought it was probably a good reaction.

“So… with Jorge?” he tried again, and the blonde’s lips widened in a smile again.

“He’s going to help us,” Newt said with a satisfied tone. “He decided to move out of the States anyway, said the risk is now minimal. He just needs a distraction, and we will go with a bang towards the WD with all the info he has.”

Thomas couldn’t help but wonder how much he should believe it, but remained quiet.

***

Minho seemed excited about the fact they got Jorge on their side, and dragged them for a drink after work. It was a pleasantly spent evening, even though Teresa refused to go with them, holding her grudge dearly.

They didn’t really get drunk, but Thomas felt the pleasant tingling in his limbs how the alcohol was losing the strain and tenseness in him, and he could finally breathe a little easier, stop caring for a moment. Newt was sitting close to him, and occasionally his hand sneaked on Thomas’ thigh, squeezing gradually and traveling up and down, and when it was too close to the hotspot, Thomas wriggled in his seat, giving Newt a reprimanding look, and earned a smug smile in return.

He wasn’t really surprised they ended up kissing in a back alley behind the club when Minho left them to it (looking horrified and amused at the same time), even though outside wasn’t very warm or comfortable. But Newt was definitely hot, and his lips whispered wonders, and Thomas really wanted to get lost in it, so he kissed him back, and somehow they managed to get to Newt’s flat. And Thomas didn’t even have time to check it out, because Newt wanted him, and he told him so, and it made a mess of Thomas’ rational thinking, because he was probably never undressed this fast.

What he managed to note was how the bed was big and comfortable, how the bedroom was _warm_ and the sheets red, and how amazing it was to hold his lover close while losing himself, and be sure he would still be there to find him again.

It felt a little different, deeper, more important. Newt was gasping and moaning under him, repeating his name in a breathless voice, and Thomas thought that if he was unable to hear anything else for the rest of his life, he would be happy with it. He couldn’t get enough of the needy voice, the silent pleas and hot urging, and there was nothing that could make him to stop at that moment. So he took his lover how he wanted it, planted into him deeper and surer, and Newt welcomed him, begged for him, and his brain almost froze over from the sheer pleasure of it – the small details worked on him like a charm. How Newt crossed his legs on Thomas’ back, pulling him closer and deeper, how his voice broke down when he hit the right spot, how he watched him with half lidded eyes, licking his lips and asking for making it _harder_ and _faster_ and being all damn _demanding_. It was like the first time in a hotel, just better, more intimate, more important, but the same excitement coursed through his veins like a liquid fire.

But he knew, he _knew_ when he was going to wake up in the morning, Newt will be still there, and not just a note and emptiness. And that made him deliriously happy and so, _so in love_.

“Am I doing this right?” Newt asked while they were comfortably snuggled together, with Newt lying atop of Thomas, their legs intertwined like pretzel. It felt amazing and maybe a little domestic, but Thomas refused to let Newt go anywhere, so he was stuck there with him anyway. “The whole dating business I mean. Is it okay?”

“Do you see me complaining?” Thomas smiled at him, happy and sated, and Newt watched him carefully before shaking his head no.

“It’s actually fun,” the blond mumbled, trailing his fingers along Thomas’ jaw, down his neck and onto the collarbones, tracing them delicately. “And kind of… nice. To know you’re here for me.”

“Ooooh, you like that, hm?” Thomas poked him and chuckled when Newt batted his hand away, pouting a little.

“I’m not used to that from people, that’s all,” he flicked Thomas’ forehead, pushing himself precisely atop of Thomas, looking down at him with a smirk. “And how’s the chain and a ball treating _you_?”

“How sweet,” Thomas snorted, holding the blond around his waist, rubbing his hips gently. “So far, so good. You’re trainable.”

“Mean,” Newt commented.

“Adorable,” Thomas opposed.

“Shut up.”

“You asked,” Thomas snickered, his hands slowly sliding up Newt’s bare back, and then cupping the blonde’s face. “You should get used to it. Because I’m going to embarrass you with those things often.”

“What, saying I’m lovely and adorable in public? What a hardship,” Newt snorted, but it didn’t have any heat in it, mostly because he was almost purring at the touches Thomas kept on landing on him, gently caressing his jaw and then neck.

“You are adorable and lovely,” Thomas smiled, catching Newt’s chin and pulling him forward for a short peck on his lips.

“Sweet talker,” Newt uttered, but caught another kiss anyway. “I guess I really am soft after all. But having a boyfriend is kinda cool.”

“Nice to get appreciated,” Thomas chuckled, turning them both over and nesting between Newt’s thighs. “Have you already called for your boyfriend bonuses on your customer’s hotline?”

“You mean with your special _cellphone_?” Newt wiggled his eyebrows. “Cuz I tried, but they were rude.”

“No way.”

“They spit-,”

“Oh my god, please don’t say that!” Thomas groaned, and Newt burst in hysterical laughter, making Thomas want to strangle him. “One day this dirty mouth of yours will get you into a trouble.”

“Mmm,” Newt hummed with a mischievous smile. “So far it got me where I needed. So… can I call the hotline again? Maybe they are going to be nicer this time.”

“Seriously…”

“I won’t make a scene, I swear,” Newt winked at him. “I was called silver tongue after all.”

“Please stop talking,” Thomas whimpered, his face burning red, and it made the blond only laugh harder.

This guy was his blessing _and_ the curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Sorry it was a bit uneventful QQ But! I feel like two, three more chapters? And it should be the end :) Thank you for holding up and reading all this time, commenting and supporting me, I'm grateful for your kind words and your inquiries and questions and thoughts, it made me happy and absolutely delighted.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you all <3


	35. Four Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How about customary morning sex?” Newt offered, wriggling on Thomas’ lap mischievously, and the brunet groaned, catching Newt by his hips, stalling him.   
> “Two hours late-,”  
> “Traffic was terrible,” Newt countered, planting small kisses on Thomas’ neck.   
> “We have it half an hour far-,”  
> “And old lady across the street needed help with groceries,” another excuse and a nibble on Thomas’ collarbone.

It was warm and pleasant. Heavy, but breathy. It felt a little alien, like sleeping in a bed that didn’t belong to him, in a room that sounded unfamiliar, with ticking that he never heard before and light coming from different direction. But even against all these odds it felt like it was right, like it was the precise point in time and place he was supposed to be.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly, engulfed in warmth that seeped into him comfortably, and the first thing greeting him was blond hair peeking from under the blanket. He blinked the sleepiness away, finally putting the pieces of reality together, and came to an amazing conclusion:

He was in a bed with Newt. Through the whole night. Not being kicked down.

Newt was snuggled close to him, his face buried in Thomas’ shirt and sleeping peacefully, and Thomas felt his heart swelling with pride and happiness from it.

Either Newt was too tired from their night activities he didn’t have any strength left to do any actual kicking – or moving on that matter – so he remained still the whole night. Or maybe it was the familiarity of his own place, his own bed that made him calm and easy to sleep with, Thomas couldn’t tell. But maybe, just maybe, it was that he finally came in terms with their current relationship, that he was loved and wanted, and kicking had been just a defensive mechanism that protected him from getting hurt.

Thomas smiled nevertheless, probably like an idiot too, and kissed the top of Newt’s head lovingly, just because he could. It was peaceful and pleasant, this waking up. No pressure, just a comfortable silence and slow rousing, going back from the dreamland to reality peacefully cuddled by his own lover…

“Fuck, it’s not Saturday!” Thomas realized in a flash and one look towards Newt’s clock resting on his bedside table confirmed that all this _nice and peaceful waking up_ was actually sleeping late like hell.

“Newt,” he whispered gently, trying not to be too harsh, but the time was already threatening him with Minho kicking his butt for such late arrival, so he touched the blonde’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Newt, wake up.”

“Mmm…?”

“We overslept,” he informed him with a sigh, pulling the blanket away, and Newt whimpered, scrambling for it again to catch the escaping warmth. “Come on, we are two hours over due.”

“Two hours late…?” Newt yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Man, you’re having a bad effect on me; I never slept in like this before.”

“Also,” Thomas pointed at the blond, his body stopping the motion, sitting back and messing Newt’s hair even more. “I woke up with you.”

“What else is new?” Newt leaned over, snuggling to him like a cat.

“No, I mean with you _with you_.”

“Um… yes?” Newt piped, nosing Thomas’ jaw. “You’re in my flat, it would be weird, and probably little questionable, if you woke up with my neighbour. He is like a bear, you probably wouldn’t like it. If… you’re not into it, that is.”

“Smartass,” Thomas rolled his eyes, earning a chuckle. “I mean I woke up in your _bed_.”

“Where else would you… oh!” Newt’s eyes shone at it once he realized what it meant, and Thomas grinned at the reaction – it was cute and happy, and he had been absolutely the same and that was just awesome.

“Guess you were right,” Newt purred, crawling on Thomas’ lap, nibbling at his ear. “Spending nights with my boyfriend taught me many things.”

“Told ya,” Thomas hugged him close, enjoying the attention, until it occurred to him this wasn’t the weekend, even though it felt like it. “But now we should really go…”

“How about customary morning sex?” Newt offered, wriggling on Thomas’ lap mischievously, and the brunet groaned, catching Newt by his hips, stalling him.

“Two hours late-,”

“Traffic was terrible,” Newt countered, planting small kisses on Thomas’ neck.

“We have it half an hour far-,”

“And old lady across the street needed help with groceries,” another excuse and a nibble on Thomas’ collarbone.

“God, you’re evil,” Thomas breathed out and let the blond push him on his back and then sit atop of him without shame. If they made it fast, another half an hour won’t kill them… right?

***

“Four hours late, really?” Minho gave Thomas a reprimanding look, sipping smoothie and leaning against his table. “What have you been trying to do? Conceive a child?”

“Aren’t you full of funny ideas,” Thomas smirked, pointing at the smoothie. “Gimme a taste?”

“Get your own, you lovesick teenager,” Minho stuck his tongue out, proving Thomas that he was the teenager one with the behaviour, and then smiled widely. “Also, while you two were playing each other’s bongos, there had been a big bang of enormous proportions.”

“You fell off the stairs?” Thomas raised his eyebrows and Minho rolled his eyes, circling his table and took one of the papers lying on the desk, giving it to Thomas.

“Read it,” he ordered him with a smirk and Thomas did with a sigh. His mind was still a little hazed, fuelled with aftereffects of a perfect morning happiness, so it took him longer to actually read the text properly.

“What?” he stared at the paper with wide eyes. “What?!”

“I know, right?” Minho giggled like a school girl, so the smoothie looked like it truly belonged to his frame. “I reacted the same, but man! Awesome, eh?”

“Give me a sec, I’ll be right back,” Thomas didn’t even wait for Minho’s reaction, he just shot out from his office right to Newt’s, falling in without knocking, earning a startled look from the blond behind the table.

“Trying a superhero career?” Newt asked still a bit taken back, and Thomas grinned, all happy and ecstatic and showed him the paper.

“WD dropped the charges!” he didn’t wait for Newt to actually read it how excited he was. “The proceedings are stopped!”

“They what?” the blond stood up immediately, snatching the paper from Thomas’ hand and staring into it in shock.

“Due to the similar interests, the WD Company is dropping all the charges towards The Maze Runner, formerly The Maze… I don’t understand?”

“I suppose the fact Jorge decided to help us shook the ground beneath their feet,” Minho suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking pleased like a cat that just got the cream, and nodded towards the blond. “We can, of course, refuse and continue to press new ones.”

“No,” Newt immediately responded, his face serious. “But we should definitely contact them. If they are dismissing the case entirely, I want a written statement from Ava.”

“Do you really want to push it?” Minho seemed doubtful. “If they got scared, it’s only a good thing. We got the upper hand in the end.”

“Or they’re giving us false sense of safety, readying another attack,” Newt countered. “When did the came in?”

“Yesterday afternoon, according to the date on the data box,” Minho replied with a frown. “But even if, they dismissed it entirely. The court won’t let them press any other charges, it’s denied by the law from the moment they dropped the first one.”

“Of the _same_ subject,” Newt pointed out, looking into the paper with a dangerous intensity. “They can decide the colour of the building is distasteful, and sue us for that later.”

“Well, we should get a new paintwork anyway,” Minho piped, earning a shove from Thomas. “Alright, alright. We can’t be cautious enough. I’ll arrange the meeting. You two should wear turtlenecks though, or she will definitely sue us for obscenity.”

With that he left Newt’s office, but Thomas noticed the smug smile that played on his lips. He smirked at it too, but Newt’s unhappy face got him sober again.

“You don’t believe it?”

“I… don’t know to be honest,” the blond breathed out, looking at the paper thoughtfully. “I mean… she never did this before. It’s… out of the pattern.”

“Maybe she had enough,” Thomas offered. “Or maybe Jorge really knew too much and she thought backing up was the best.”

“What _exactly_ have you been talking about in the car yesterday?”

“You,” Thomas admitted. “But I really can’t say if she was being honest… or she lied so I’d understand her methods.”

“Her methods?” Newt looked up at him.

“She just said she wanted to protect you. And when you started kicking around yourself, she decided a tough love was what you needed to get stronger,” Thomas tried to put it as lightly as he could. He remember very well what she told him, but it felt delicate – a sensitive topic.

“Right.”

“I know, it’s… are you smiling?” Thomas stopped in his tracks, staring at his _boyfriend_ with wide eyes, because he expected a sneer maybe, a frown, or some blank expression, but a _smile_? A honest, even though small, smile that actually reached his eyes? That definitely wasn’t even on the list.

“It’s just funny,” Newt shrugged, putting the paper down and taking few steps closer to Thomas. He reached for his tie, pulling at it gently - more like a kitten demanding attention than with a real intent. “I always thought WD was being ridiculous with their reasons why to harass The Maze. It wasn’t as significant.”

“She said she wanted to keep you busy,” Thomas mumbled, watching Newt’s nimble fingers playing with the tie. “Because you…”

“Get all wrong when I’m idle?” Newt finished the sentence with a sigh and Thomas silently nodded. “That’s about right. She told you more?”

“Not really…” Thomas shook his head, catching Newt’s hands in his and pulling them to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “But it’s fine. I’ll keep you busy.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Newt chuckled, his mood suddenly bright and happy, and Thomas didn’t want to question it.

He just wanted it to prevail _forever_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Oh my, I forgot put on warnings at all those chapters.... lol. Ok, nevermind :D It's not like it's smutty or anything xD  
> Anyway! Almost finished xD Hopefully :D  
> (If you want to get something explained before it ends, just tell me, I'll try to get it there so the series feels complete :))
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	36. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m telling you! I need mind bleach!”  
> “Don’t be such a baby,” Thomas rolled his eyes, nibbling in his food while trying to ignore Minho’s snickers. “It’s not like you’ve never seen two people kissing.”  
> “Kissing!” Aris groaned. “If you were kissing, I wouldn’t need a therapist!”

Thomas wasn’t as surprised to stay out of the office when they arrived to the WD building. He expected Newt wanting to talk to the woman alone, so he stayed outside in the vestibule and let the blond go there on his own. A good thing was, as long as he waited, there wasn’t any shouting coming from the inside. He took it as a good sign.

“A remarkable turn of events, hm?” a female voice interrupted him from his thoughts, and when he turned around, he saw Brenda standing there in an elegant, close-fitting costume. Her hair was shorter now, almost boyish, but it suited her. It reminded him of the old Brenda, just better clothed.

“It got a bit wild,” he agreed, offering a smile. “Makes me wonder how big your role in it was exactly. Everything got so complicated.”

“Does it matter now?” she shrugged, picking at the papers she held in her hand. “It’s over anyway.”

"Just out of curiosity,” Thomas shrugged, giving her a long look. “It wasn’t you who talked to Teresa via e-mail, was it.”

“Teresa?” Brenda snorted and waved her hand. “That girl is crazy, and you know it. She hates my guts. I hate hers more. No way I’d go to her for help.”

“For help?”

“Well, it got bad, so it needed helping,” she shrugged. “Not to mention you were involved as well.”

“You hate my guts too,” Thomas opposed, but smirked still.

“Oh, hun, if I hated your guts, I wouldn’t have dated you,” she winked at him mischievously. “It just wasn’t working out, that’s all.”

“Yeah…” he sighed, looking back at the closed doors. Even though he thought it was, at that time, that they were fine. He moped so hard after she broke up with him, it wasn’t even funny. He wasn’t even surprised, looking back at it now, that Minho and Teresa got fed up with him and got him the appointment card.

“Not to mention you play for the other team now, eh?” she nudged him, bringing him back from the memories. “Who would have known? A baby boy Thomas, falling in love with a guy.”

“Should I be surprised you know that?” he grumbled and the brown haired girl just smiled sweetly at him.

“If you think it’s because I work here and got some intel, then I must disappoint you,” she patted his arm in consolation. “I dated you. I know how your lovesick brain works. And I can see it when you look at the blondie.”

“Of course,” Thomas rolled his eyes, not even offended anymore. “Predictable.”

“Well, not with everything. I wouldn’t have said you’d ever happen to find yourself with a guy,” she opposed. “But good for you, I suppose. Even though he’s… a bit conflicted.”

“Stuff happens,” he just responded. “It should be fine now.”

“As fine as his current relationship with Paige and Janson is gonna be, I assume,” she pointed out. “Although I still can’t figure it out. He’s definitely not her son, although I’d be able to call some similar traits. But she’s fussing about him as if he was.”

“Is that so?” he raised an eyebrow. He was aware there was _something_ going on between them, but he just couldn’t point a finger at it. Apparently neither could Brenda, which was surprising, taking her background.

“It’s just curious,” she shrugged. “She kept on attacking him, but on the other hand caring if he deflected it successfully. Not to mention the big deal about you.”

“About me?”

“Yeah. Like… if you’re safe enough for her to leave him alone already, so you can take her place,” she mused. “Or something like that.”

“What, making his life miserable? Not big on that,” Thomas frowned, glancing at the door unhappily. “Just because she can’t say stuff properly. Can’t see what’s the big idea.”

“Me neither,” Brenda agreed. “They are both nuts in my opinion. With some weird war going on still.”

“I’m surprised you’re still here then,” Thomas rather changed topic and Brenda snorted.

“You haven’t seen my pay check. Trust me; you’d be here too if you knew.”

“Who would say you’re this materialistic,” he teased her, and Brenda took few steps back and turned her right shoe towards him. They were elegant and smooth, fitting her tiny feet perfectly.

“See this? Blahnik. I love shoes. Shoes are expensive.”

“You used to wear sneakers,” he shook his head and Brenda twirled happily.

“I used to eat Chinese food for breakfast. People change,” she winked at him. “You changed as well.”

“I suppose so,” he mumbled. “Hopefully for the best.”

“Hopefully,” she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. She sounded so honest it made him smile as well.

Two minutes later the door finally opened and Newt left the office with relaxed expression on his face. Thomas took it as a very good sign.

***

“You really got it?” Minho stared at the paper with wide eyes. “She agreed to it?”

“It had been _three years_ WD had been terrorizing The Maze. I think she’s happy to be over as well,” Newt shrugged, getting all the files for the case sorted and bind together. “She can find a better target now.”

“I’m just surprised you’re willing to let them go so easily,” Minho shrugged, getting the paper in a binder. “They did some mean shit. Not to mention all those shady things we knew about. And suddenly it’s fine? You let her go away with it?”

“Starting another war seems pointless,” Newt commented. “Not to mention we haven’t seen the worst weapons they have. It can get very ugly. With or without Jorge.”

“Is he really leaving the US?” Thomas added into the conversation, even though he had been sitting idle until now, resting on the sofa in Newt’s office. He was strangely tired, like he could sleep for days, but he wanted to drag Newt with him as well, and cuddle him for a while, which proved impossible with Minho present. Well… possible, but probably laughed upon as well.

“I’m not blaming him,” Newt nodded. “All the stuff she put him through… he’s happy to do so.”

“I’d be too,” Minho agreed. “And I know like… One quarter of it.”

“Brenda decided to stay though,” Thomas said, more to Minho than Newt, since the blond was already aware. He hadn’t missed the sneer though, even though it was just fleeting and Newt hid it away soon enough.

“Good money I suppose?” the Asian suggested. “For her shoes fetish.”

“How do you know about the shoes?”

“How don’t you?” Minho snorted. “She had new shoes every fourth day! It was like shoes parade! Probably a reason why Teresa despised her so much.”

“She wore sneakers,” Thomas grumbled stubbornly. That was all he saw anyway – just the same type of shoes.

“Converse,” Minho pointed. “And other not so cheap stuff. I’m pretty sure she loves shoes more than she ever loved you, man.”

“That’s not very optimistic,” the brunet frowned and Minho chuckled, pointing at Newt.

“Don’t worry. I think your new _boyfriend_ doesn’t have any bad fetishes that don’t include you,” he sent the blond a cheeky smile and Newt just rolled his eyes.

“Naturally,” he uttered and Thomas couldn’t help the small smile forcing its way to his lips. Since things got calm again, the case got closed and The Maze Runner ran as it should have, Newt grew visibly more comfortable about the fact he had found himself in a relationship. He actually kept on using the wild card for it, getting bolder and bolder each passing day – smacking Thomas’ butt when leaving, kissing him soundly in a copy room when they met there, landing all sort of touches when they were in a close vicinity.

And of course, teased him with his double meaning remarks _everywhere_. Especially _in front of somebody_. He had some wicked pleasure out of Thomas’ red face, that for sure.

“Gonna find Teresa,” Minho informed them with a sigh. “God knows she needs something to shut her up. You’re lucky you hadn’t needed to bother with her all this time. She was so sure you’re up to something.”

“I don’t really blame her,” Newt shrugged. “I should probably talk to her at some point too. Dissolve the bad blood at least a little.”

“If you’re brave enough,” Minho smirked and waved them off, leaving the office in a sure stride. Newt let out a deep sigh once the Asian disappeared, and glanced at Thomas. His body was relaxed and eyes clear and Thomas loved the peacefulness. No barriers, no guarded expression, just honest affection.

“You seem really comfortable on my couch,” Newt pointed out and Thomas offered a smile, sprawling over the furniture like he wanted all this time, letting his limbs rest.

“Actually not as comfortable as it should be,” he extended his hand, signalling Newt to come to him. He was itching for some contact, even though it was ridiculous. They were touching all the time, and yet it was like a touch deprivation seizing him all the time they stood apart.

“I have a work to do,” Newt snorted and started re-arranging papers steadily, not moving from his spot. “You should be ashamed for being such a bad influence, encouraging me to abandon my job.”

“I’m very guilty,” Thomas teased. “Maybe I should be punished?”

“Maybe you should get your ass to your own office, do something proper,” Newt shot back and Thomas pouted, sitting back up.

“Spoilsport,” he exclaimed. “I just wanted to cuddle a little.”

_Maybe kiss a bit as well. Just a lil._

“Aren’t you a cute little girl. You must learn we can’t always have what we want,” Newt responded without a flinch, categorizing papers steadily. “Now go and let me work.”

“Mean,” Thomas sighed, but actually got up and dragged himself towards the door, the vision of snuggling and maybe even taking a short nap shattered to pieces.

“Wait, where are you going?” Newt stopped him with raised eyebrows and Thomas turned around to face him, a frown playing on his face.

“Leaving?”

“No goodbye kiss?” the blond crossed his arms on his chest and Thomas couldn’t stop the burst of laughter before returning to his lover. He gently touched his waist and pulled him closer, the warmth immediately putting him at ease.

“Aren’t _you_ a cute little girl,” he teased him, leaning in to give him a peck, but Newt avoided his lips, hugging him instead.

“Don’t tell me all shitty romance movies lied,” he grumbled to Thomas’ shoulder. “A kiss is customary at such situations.”

“Of course it is,” Thomas chuckled, caressing Newt’s back gently. “I approve of it very much.”

“I’d be busted if you didn’t,” Newt smirked, nuzzling into crook of Thomas neck. “Kissing you is my favourite hobby.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Thomas teased him and Newt laughed shortly, looking at the brunet again.

“So that’s a yes?”

“That’s definitely a yes,” Thomas nodded firmly, his hands sliding up, cupping Newt’s face. “As many times as you want.”

“Bold,” Newt grinned and brushed their lips together. “No take backs.”

“None intended,” Thomas assured him, capturing his mouth without other delay, earning a muffled approving noise in return.

For a goodbye kiss it turned filthy very fast and they ended up on the couch anyway. Bad thing was both of them forgot the lock the door.

Aris didn’t approve.

***

“I’m telling you! I need mind bleach!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Thomas rolled his eyes, nibbling in his food while trying to ignore Minho’s snickers. “It’s not like you’ve never seen two people kissing.”

“Kissing!” Aris groaned. “If you were _kissing_ , I wouldn’t need a therapist!”

“Tell him something,” Thomas grumbled towards Minho, and the Asian grinned broadly, apparently seizing his chance and making Thomas regret it.

“So what _exactly_ have you seen, my dear boy?” he asked Aris with interest.

“Something you need an exorcist for,” Aris glared at Thomas unhappily. “There should be a rule for not being allowed to do this at work.”

“I’m pretty sure there is,” Minho shrugged. “But you can’t command hormones.”

“It was just a _kiss_!” Thomas hollered with a fed up expression, sending Minho into a fit of laughter.

“There were hands in pants!” Aris shot back. “How is that considered _a kiss_?!”

“There was _also_ a kiss, he meant,” Minho nodded thoughtfully. “Wasn’t there?”

“No, there was an obscene throats inspection, a fucking tonsil hockey!” Aris sputtered out. “How am I going to look at that guy again with a straight face?!”

“Try a gay face,” Minho advised him. “Might work.”

“I want a department transfer,” Thomas whimpered.

***

Thomas found out his personal life became a hot topic through the Maze Runner as fast as the fire spreading in a dry forest. Some accountants cooed at him the moment he set a foot in their office, random guys in hallway watched him like he grew another head and the CEO he met on the hallway gave him a little smile the moment he mentioned Newt in conversation.

Thomas felt like became the worst kept secret in the whole company. He couldn’t decide if it bothered him or not, so he just left it as it was, hoping Newt wasn’t getting bombarded with strange asks or comments from all sides. Like Thomas, when he got asked about the best decorations in the vestibule. At that moment he gave up.

He officially became a gay mascot of the whole company.

***

“Me? Why?” Teresa’s voice sounded a little strained and it gave Thomas a pause in front of her doors. He wanted to talk to her a bit, deal with the problem she kept on putting between them, but she apparently had another guest. “It’s not like I’m free anyway.”

“It’s not like I care,” Newt’s voice responded and Thomas stopped the groan coming up in time. These two in one room – that was going to end in bloodshed.

“Well, that’s your problem,” Teresa uttered, the clapping of her shoes grew more distant. “If you need a lap dog, whistle at Tom. He’ll come running.”

“He’s not that well trained yet,” Newt replied without hesitation. “It usually needs bait.”

_Oh my god._

“Does this conversation have a point?” her voice became sharp and Thomas could tell it was going to get even worse if Newt wouldn’t stop.

“Yes,” the blond answered calmly. “The case.”

“I’m not helping you,” she barked and Thomas blinked in surprise. Newt wanted to work with Teresa? _Really?_

“It’s not really about helping,” he heard Newt move, probably approaching the girl on his own risk of getting beheaded with a stapler. “I want to cooperate.”

“No,” an immediate refusal. “Ask Minho if you have the urge.”

“I’m asking you.”

“And I’m saying no.”

“I’m not taking _no_ as an answer.”

Thomas almost forgot to breathe from the sudden tenseness that flowed from Teresa’s office. He wanted to enter and stop them, but he also really wanted them to sort it out by their own, so he waited, and hoped there won’t be any blood after.

“I’m not like Tom,” she spoke after a moment, her voice cold. “Your pretty face doesn’t work on me.”

“It doesn’t work on him either,” Newt replied. “A blowjob does, but that’s not something I can offer you.”

Thomas had to bit his hand to stop himself from groaning. That person was going to be a death of him one day, that for sure.

“Very funny,” she uttered. “It’s still a no. Now leave.”

“How antagonistic,” Newt said with a sigh, footsteps signalizing he came closer to the doors. “It’s like I stepped on your hamster or something. What’s so bad about working on a case with me? Afraid you won’t keep up?”

“With you? Oh please,” she snorted. “I eat arrogant pricks like you for breakfast.”

“That’s hard to believe,” he retorted. “All I’ve seen was you not handling alcohol well, looking shitty after New Years’ and getting lead on by Ava while trying to get all the possible dirt about me.”

“Because _you_ have been leading us on all this time!” she raised her voice, and that was the moment Thomas knew the shit was going to hit the fan soon. “Making Tom fucking miserable, do you have any idea how a relationship works? Because I don’t think so, with the way you’ve been treating him!”

There was silence stretching right after and Thomas held his breath in terror.

“I’m trying,” Newt said after a moment. His voice was calm, but maybe a little sad. “Despite of what you might think, I want this to work.”

“By lying to him,” she gritted out.

“No.”

“But that’s what you’ve been doing!”

“That’s how I’ve been trying to protect myself,” he opposed. His voice was still even, still controlled. Thomas had to admit it was admirable under Teresa’s constant attacks. “Opening up to people is difficult.”

Another moment of a dead silence which made Thomas nervous. He never really talked to Newt about those things, not after the office confession. It felt better buried, not poisoning the atmosphere. But Thomas couldn’t deny it was still nagging him a little.

“That’s a risk you either are willing to take, or you’re a coward and don’t deserve a guy like him,” she finally said, but the tone was softer now.

“I know,” Newt agreed. Thomas kind of wished he saw his face. “But I want to.”

He heard Teresa sigh – long, exasperated reaction he knew well. It usually meant she gave in, even though she wasn’t 100% sure about the outcome.

“Fine,” she mumbled after. “I suppose only time will tell. I still think you’re a lying bastard, but you seem like you have at least a small heart stashed somewhere.”

“Not really, Thomas took it.”

_Oh god._

Teresa made a strangled noise in the back of her throat and Thomas almost did the same.

“So, the case?” he changed the topic briskly, like turning a page of a book.

“Alright,” she wept, her voice a little wavering. “You smart bastard.”

“I take it as a compliment,” Newt shot back and Thomas could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll leave this with you. Give me a call when you’re ready to progress.”

Thomas took it as his cue to leave, his heart beating wild and mind being bright and overwhelmed. He definitely needed to cuddle this guy as soon as possible, or his heart was going to explode.

Well. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Woooooooooooo! The end. Finally, goddamn xD I feel like I should have ended it after the Christmas, leaving that stupid drama out of this (maybe deleting the rest is not a bad idea, lol. Please consider everything from chapter 23 - A Bed like a quirk of my sick mind xD). Anyway! The end! Yayyyyy :D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Commenting. Supporting me. I love you all, so, so much! You showed an immense support and insight and I love you, seriously. I want to thank rsprodz for the amazing trailer that literally blew my mind, because it's hella amazing! It made me so happy! <3 Thank you!
> 
> Edit: Also, there is a possibility for extras. If you want to have some one shot for this, just ask :)


	37. One Shot - Newt's PoV - Chapter 1-3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> A request fill for anon:
> 
> anonymous asked: (Tumblr)  
> Mishaa!! Can I ask for Newt’s PoV in strings for the onestand’s part?? preety pleassee?? 
> 
> I hope you like it, hun! <3

Newt was good at guessing. It was like a hobby, a game he played with himself and the reality. Usually it took only one look – one simple observation and he knew who he was dealing with. A blushing virgin? Fidgety and shy, overthinking every single move. An experienced lover? Sure, steady, holding the gaze, throwing learned phrases and moves. An adventurous first timer? Ready to try new things, bold, but obedient.

Who he was looking at now was something else though. He watched the brown haired man in a hoodie and jeans in front of the doors of the incriminated doors for several minutes now, noticing how he took several deep breaths to steady himself, how he was ready to go in one moment, but changed his mind in the last second, how his hands twitched at his sides.

A first timer, that for sure. He had a nice, broad back and lean waist, definitely not a person Newt would be opposed to spend the night. If he was really going to do that, that was the question. It was always the main problem with first timers – they either manned up, or freaked out and ran away.  

“Are you going to enter or does the hallway look more appealing to you?” he decided to end his suffering, the fidgeting nervousness that radiated from his frame, and wasn’t even surprised he didn’t get a reply immediately, nor that the man turned to him right away. His shoulders raised and fell. Once. Twice. Contemplating. Thinking. Analysing the voice maybe.

Newt waited until he finally started to turn around, revealing a pretty face full of worry, big brown eyes wide, but somehow curious, and the slow but sure understanding lighting up his features was like watching a movie – his eyes got brighter, shoulder less tense. He seemed nice – nervous and maybe surprised – but nice.

Newt tilted his head to the side when there was no other response than staring, and wondered if he hadn’t broken this guy already. A first timer – and maybe also mixed with a blushing virgin? He looked him over, checking the appealing frame of his, and decided he was definitely not untouched.

“Hallway then?” he asked and the man fervently shook his head. “Alright. If you’d allow me then? Or do you want to have the honour and open up?”

“I’ll open, sorry,” the brunet blurted out, his voice surprisingly soft, and turned back to the door, dragging the card through the lock. Newt noticed the tenseness in him, and it made him smirk. These guys were sort of cute, he had to admit, although sometimes kind of bothersome to deal with. There was a risk they’d change their mind and just leave, and Newt wondered how big shame it would be in this case. This guy definitely wasn’t a hardship to look at.

The door opened and his _partner_ entered the room slowly, just to stop after two steps behind the doorstep, turning around suddenly.

 “Did you bring handcuffs with you?” he asked, strained, and Newt stared in a quiet shock, his jaw dropping down.

_Handcuffs? Had I misjudged him this bad?_

But then he saw the anxiety in his eyes, the fearful look that overruled him, and it was hilarious, completely crazy, and sort of understandable, but painfully ridiculous. He couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling inside of him, and almost broke in half from the wild cackle that shook him.

He pushed the _boy_ inside the room and closed the door, still laughing so much that tears were streaming down his face from the sheer absurdity of it. A first timer, no doubt, and scared of some kinky sex on top of that, probably imagining them having a weird tongue tying safe word and using riding crops or something, and no doubt it scared him to death.

“Handcuffs!” he giggled again, wiping tears from his face while trying to put some seriousness into the situation (and failing). “I just can’t, my god.”

It was the craziest first meeting he ever had, and that was saying something. He dragged his coat down his shoulders, still chuckling in amusement, while watching the brunet sitting on the bed, absolutely mortified, and it just made him laugh more.

“I must disappoint you, I suppose,” he told him with amused smile. “I’m not really into kinky stuff. No handcuffs.”

“Oh thank god,” the man hid his face in his palms, his shoulders dropping in relief, and it just confirmed Newt’s suspicion.

“Ah, first timer?” he asked, just to make sure, and the boy nodded, but didn’t look up. First timers were fun, and this one definitely seemed like a good source of amusement, so teasing him a bit seemed right. Newt remained quiet, waiting for him to look up, and could easily picture what was going through his head.

 _Am I good enough? Will I know what to do? Will he be satisfied? Is it a let-down?_ Those questions were typical, Newt was aware, he had them once too. He could easily imagine it, and he also knew very well how to dismiss those stupid fears, and not let the night get ruined because of it.

He didn’t come here just to leave unsatisfied after all.

He sat down comfortably, looking at the brown hair with a smirk, and waited. It took the boy about a minute until he raised his head, seemed startled by Newt’s watchful gaze.

“Was wondering how long it was going to take for you to look up if I keep quiet,” Newt told him simply. “Nervous I assume?”

“Terrified,” the brunet mumbled. He definitely looked like he was ready to bolt out any second.

“You don’t look like a type for this,” the blond noted.

“Neither do you,” his partner countered quickly, making him chuckle.

“Appearances,” Newt only shrugged and the brunet nodded in agreement.

“Can be deceiving,” he added and Newt had to agree. He alone was the best example, people were underestimating him very often, and he was happy to break it out to them, just to see the surprise in their faces.

“You can call me Newt, greenie,” he introduced himself with his regular nickname, completely relaxed about it, and the boy snorted.

“Thomas,” he said back and Newt couldn’t help but grin. A first timer’s mistake number one.

“Just told me your real name, didn’t ya.”

 _Thomas_ blinked few times and then cringed when he realized what he had done.

“Apparently. Since I’m an idiot,” he piped after, ashamed.

“Nah, it’s all good,” Newt waved his hand with a chuckle. “Thomas is a nice name. Tommy. Sounds about right.”

It was a cute nickname, and it sort of fitted his image. He wasn’t literally boyish, Newt was pretty sure people would say the blond looked more like right out of school out of the duo, while Thomas could have been aspiring for a successful adult. But it still fitted, because he was this big eyes, pouty lips type, something you don’t mind looking at.

“So, Tommy,” Newt cocked his head to the side, watching him expectantly. “As much as I find your fidgeting adorable, our time is limited. And I don’t know about you, but I didn’t come here to chat. At least not _only_.”

The immediate look of gripping fear paralyzed the boy like liquid nitrogen and it was the most hilarious thing Newt had ever seen, a literal reaction of someone who found out he was utterly fucked and the shit hit the fan. He burst in laughter, hiccupping with attempts to stifle it, and the confused expression Thomas put on was a killer for sure.

“Your expression! You look like you are actually scared I’m going to eat you!” Newt hiccupped, trying to get the giggles under control again. “I doubt your Bambi eyes can’t get any bigger than today, I swear.”

“Sorry, I-,”

“Aah, shut it,” Newt grinned and stood up, finally making Thomas speechless with it. The time grew short and Newt couldn’t say he was opposed to make it a little faster and teach this little puppy some new tricks. He usually hadn’t had conversations like this before the act – this meeting was because of sex after all. “It’s not like words can change that, can they.”

He shamelessly sat on the brunet’s lap, knees on the sides of Thomas’ thighs, and it was warm and seemed like it could be nice, if he would be able to make Thomas lose the terrible tenseness that was gripping his body. A fear maybe, or insecurity, who knew.

“Let’s play a game, shall we,” Newt suggested with a small smile. “You’ll tell me when I hit a good spot. And I’ll make sure we both enjoy this.”

He gently slid his hands from Thomas’ nice, broad shoulders down to his arms, noting the pleasing firmness and shape, and he was very well aware how his partner grew stiffer and stiffer, apparently not very comfortable with this. But Newt hadn’t sensed disgust or rejection, so he kept going, mapping and analysing every reaction he got, searching for either an impulse to stop, or a sign to take it further.

When he pulled on the zipper of Thomas’ hoodie and dragged it down, there was a hitch of breath, an unsure fidgeting. He slowed down a bit before opening the hoodie completely and revealing the grey t-shirt under. He curiously mapped the fabric of the garment, then hooked his fingers along the hem of the hoodie and pulled it slowly off Thomas’ shoulders. He really _had_ nice arms, that for sure. Strong, fit.

“Man, you are like a statue, loosen up a little,” Newt chuckled, gently caressing the bare skin on Thomas’ arm, electing goose bumps immediately. The other hand slowly travelled along Thomas’ chest to his neck, curling around his nape, caressing just under the hairline. It usually made people relaxed.

“Good?” he asked and Thomas swallowed loudly and nodded. He seemed unsure and a little shocked by his own reactions, and Newt couldn’t really predict the result of this in a long run. So he kept on going, letting his fingers slide a little down, travelling to his collarbones.

“Still good?” Newt asked and Thomas hummed.

“Good,” he croaked out, and Newt leaned a bit more forward, dragging his teeth over the pulse point on Thomas neck. The touch was apparently not expected, because Thomas’ body shivered and a groan sliced the air, and his body immediately reacted – in the best way possible, if Newt wanted to be completely honest. It definitely improved his mood again.

“I gather this was good as well?” he chuckled and re-seated a little. “Since you are already pitching a tent.”

“I-what?” Thomas looked down and turned red in a second – an adorable reaction for a grown man.

“Something I can work with,” Newt winked at him and returned his attention to Thomas’ neck, biting it lightly, evoking more of delicious noises, even though strained, like he tried to hold it in. His body started to loosen up a little though, slowly, but gradually. Thomas still gave him a vibe he never had been in such situation before for how stiff he was, like he thought it was wrong, but couldn’t say no anyway. For some reason it made Newt hot as well and he pressed to him more, searching for the friction.

“Never been with a guy either, I take it?” he asked, pulling the brunet from a trance he apparently fell into, and it took Thomas a moment to understand, because his breath hitched after a moment, and it was the nicest sound Newt could have hoped for.

“Fuck,” Thomas swore under his breath, his chest was raising and falling rapidly, and Newt smirked, running his fingers through Thomas’ hair. If he wanted to lead him through this, he strived to do it right. It held a certain appeal, something with the ringing sound of _first_ in his head.

“Only if you’re up to it,” Newt offered, his face softening a little, even though taking a curse word literally was a bit of a low blow. “Not really keen on having an unwilling participant. Ruins the mood.”

Thomas’ face was a conflicted mask, his eyes wide and breath short, and it was like he fought with himself, indecisive. It felt familiar, Newt could tell. He wasn’t the first, and definitely not the last.

“It’s just sex,” Newt whispered into his ear to relax him a little, and felt bold enough to land a small nibble to Thomas’ ear. “No rocket science. Just relax.”

“I can do that,” Thomas said, his voice trembled slightly, but the tone was sure and message conveyed.

“Good boy,” Newt smiled and his hands slid lower, towards Thomas’ belt.

The night just got interesting.

***

The change was palpable and little surprising, but in a good sense. Thomas’ body lost the tension completely and when Newt pushed him back on the bed, he immediately went for the shirt, pulling it over the blonde’s head and touching like a curious kitten. It was nice and warm and Newt hummed happily over it.

“The game is still on?” Thomas asked breathlessly when Newt got rid of his shirt as well, his hands roaming around Thomas’ bare shoulders and sliding towards his waist, watching him carefully, searching for the right angle and weak spots. It was always good to learn those early.

“The good/bad game?” the blond replied with a question and dipped his head down, licking a stripe of Thomas’ stomach, earning a pleasantly sounding moan.

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed with a hitch in his breath, and Newt chuckled, happy to play along.

“Of course,” he tugged at the opened belt and with one long move freed it from the confinements of belt loops. He stopped when Thomas’ hands found their way up his waist, resting on his hips.

“Good?” the brunet asked peculiarly and it made Newt smirk. He was a fast learner, and apparently found his comfort zone in this.

“Good, Tommy,” he assured him and returned to his previous action, which continued with an attempt to get rid of Thomas’ jeans completely. “Raise your hips.”

Thomas did what he was told immediately, no hesitation, and Newt get rid of the clothes in one swift motion, just to stop in the middle, a little surprised about what he saw.

“You sure this is your first time with a guy?” he asked bluntly. He was hard already, and really, really excited as it seemed. “Cuz… wow, you are like… super ready?”

“Please don’t talk,” the brunet pleaded, mortification dripping from his voice. “I just…”

“There is _nothing_ wrong, I’m flattered,” Newt looked back up, his own body pulsing with excitement. “Just surprised. Was expecting you’d be… how to say it delicately…”

“Harder to get?” Thomas supplied, super unsure and fidgety.

“You’re hard enough,” Newt grinned and decided to prove it, so he curled his fingers around him and Thomas’ body tensed deliciously, leaving him panting and _wet_ , and Newt felt his heart pounding wildly by the whole image.

“Wow,” he breathed out. “We’re going to have _so much fun_ , mate.”

***

“Gordon Ramsey.”

“No waaaaay.”

“What? He is brilliant!”

Newt’s laughter filled the room to the brim and Thomas snickered along with him, lying comfortably on the bed with his chin propped up and looking out of the balcony through the closed door. Newt was lying atop of him, or being sprawled to describe it better, drawing abstract shapes on Thomas’ back. He was absolutely sated, and even though this wasn’t a normal occurrence, he felt he didn’t want to end it just yet, so he stayed, nuzzling into this person like an affectionate cat, just to steal a little more of this nice, comfy feeling.

The whole _sex thing_ was great. Thomas proved to be a gifted lover, with guy or not, gentle when it mattered, but insatiable when he wanted something. Thoughtful and thorough, keeping Newt interested and excited from the start to the end. It didn’t happen often to click with somebody this well for the first time, and Newt had the stupid fleeting thought of doing this again and not minding it.

It was an idiotic thing though. There were no strings attached. Not for him and definitely not for Thomas who had apparently never even thought of being with a guy before. But as a nice memory it sufficed, and Newt decided to stop thinking about it and enjoy the moment. It wasn’t his style after all, and repeating a performance smelled like commitment. A terrible thing to think of.

“I can’t believe you like Gordon Ramsey, you are such a dork,” the blond chuckled, extinguishing his current mind process like an annoying bug. His fingers abandoned Thomas’ shoulder blades and reached his hair, pulling slightly. It was like a quickly created habit to do that, pulling or raking through his hair, because he knew Thomas liked it, and Newt couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed it too. Thomas only hummed in appreciation, and it was a pleasant, deep rumble in his chest.

“Good?” Newt whispered, scraping his scalp gently.

“Excellent,” Thomas mumbled back, and it sounded ridiculously happy.

“You did great by the way,” the blond pulled at one strand. “Was fun.”

“Mhhm.”

“For a straight guy at least,” Newt added with a snicker, just because he could, and it made Thomas snap and Newt suddenly Newt himself on his back again with the brunet above him, latching on his neck and leaving all kind of marks, and Newt couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling inside of him.

This guy was a blessing. Even though just a fleeting one.


	38. One Shot - Nicer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> For NewtmasIsLife:  
> "can you do a really short OS, in which Newt and Thomas speak openly about their own feeling toward the other and tell "I love you" romantically ?"
> 
> I know it's not very romantic, but then again, these two are not really big on sitting down and talking about feelings, so I hope this is okay <3

„I‘ve got you take-out, so it’s fine, just stay there,” Newt informed him with a smile, setting the bag on a counter and taking off his coat after. Thomas was finally feeling a little better, so he could at least get out of the avalanche of blankets, ready to go help his lover. “Can you believe the nerve of that woman though? I mean, I’m her lawyer and she treats me like garbage, so why should I even help her?”

He took the white box out of the bag and took a fork, bringing it to Thomas. He had his tie eased off already, and first three buttons of his shirt open, and it was strangely arousing, and his attitude sweet, and those things clashed in Thomas strongly. His body was ready to get down on him, to ravish him, and his mind wanted to cuddle and kiss, and he couldn’t decide what the best course of action was.

“So I told her-,”

“I love you,” Thomas blurted out. Newt froze in the middle of the step, staring at the brunet with wide eyes.

“No, I’m certain I say that only to you,” he deadpanned after. “She wasn’t very nice for _tolerate_ , not to mention _love_.”

“Funny,” Thomas snorted and extended his hand, waiting for Newt to get to him. The blond gave him the box instead and smirked.

“What, you think you tell me _I love you_ and I’ll drop my clothes and leave you starving?”

“I _am_ starving!” Thomas whined, but took the box anyway. “For touch!”

“You eat this, honey, and I’ll give you all the touches you need,” Newt winked at him and avoided Thomas’ grabby hands, disappearing in the next room. Thomas took a deep breath, looking at his food sadly, until Newt suddenly peeked out of the room:

“I love you too. Just so you know,” he smiled softly and disappeared once more.

Thomas whimpered again, but it was nicer. A lot, lot nicer.


	39. One Shot - Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> anonymous asked:  
> Ooook, so got 2 ideas for "Strings" one-shots, you get to choose (or you can do both of them, hehe) So, (1) Janson and Paige are in an accident and he's dead but she's in a coma in critical condition, Newt hears and reacts, maybe goes to see them/her and (2) Brenda wants to be friends with Thomas and Newt's jealous and decides to make Thomas jealous in a way. Love ur writing!!
> 
> I picked the 2nd option :)

Brenda wanted to go to see a movie.

Brenda wanted to go grab a lunch.

Brenda surely wanted to go take a shit and had to call Thomas to assist her. Because that was exactly how it looked, and Newt _had enough_. She was there, in _their_ life, and it repeated itself so many times Newt almost forgot how it looked _before_ she decided she wanted to barge into already fragile balance they maintained.

Of course, Thomas swore she meant nothing to him; she was a friend, or maybe just an acquaintance. And yet this was the third time a week that was not even at its end when Thomas was _gone_ , with _her_ , leaving Newt alone.

He seriously had enough. If he wanted to feel insecure, he would go back to WD and wait for someone to stab him in the back, rather than wonder at home where his bloody lover was and what was he doing with the two faced minx.

So he took his things, slammed the door just because he could, even though Thomas couldn’t hear it, and went to the bar to let some steam out. Normally he would have treated such bad condition with sex, but since his current man was unavailable and he really didn’t want to go into that bad territory of cheating, alcohol was the second best friend.

“Look who’s here. The fairy tale ended?”

Well, alcohol _and_ Gally.

“The fairy tale has some annoying ads in it at the moment,” Newt answered the bluntly asked question and sat down at the barstool, smiling a little when Gally immediately served him his favourite drink.

“You know, when people are stupid, they tend to listen to ads and buying all the shit from them,” the bartender pointed out, giving Newt a meaningful look, and the blond just sighed.

“Meeting regularly with his ex means bad news, doesn’t it,” he asked a little helplessly and Gally rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? That’s a red light, man.”

“How much of a red light?” Newt piped, taking the glass and gulping down the contents. It burned his throat pleasantly, numbing the weird tension and anger. He needed that.

“Busy crossroads red light,” the bartender nodded firmly.  “Look, blondie. I get you’re somewhere in la-la-la-land now, but think a bit more rationally. If he cheats on you-,”

“He doesn’t cheat on me,” Newt grumbled, because _hell no_. Thomas just wasn’t the type, not to mention if he really did, Newt would have it on his table 5 seconds after, since Ava kept an eye on him like radar, like it or not. At times she was like an unwanted spam.

“So what is he doing then?” Gally re-filled the glass, raising an eyebrow. “Having a fancy dinner with a _friend_?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Newt suggested, his insides churning, and rather turned the glass bottom up, gulping down the liquid. He noticed how Gally took a deep breath, probably contemplating if he should heed the request or not, and then just shrugged and asked about METS.

***

**-Where are you?-**

Newt could barely focus on the small display where the text was, but when he tried really, really hard, he even made out that Thomas was a sender.

 **-Not home-** he replied shortly, wondering how to convey this strict, unattached tone he wanted to give to it.  

**-I noticed. Will you be there long? I thought we can go for a movie or something?-**

Newt stared at his phone with a frown and wasn’t even offended when Gally looked at it as well, reading the text with a snort.

“Tell him no,” he advised him. “That you have other plans already.”

“What’s that gonna accomplish?” Newt raised his head, squinting his eyes, and Gally smirked.

“Oh man, a person untouched by the spoils of relationships,” he cooed. “Just make him jelly for a bit. He made you, you’re going to be even.”

“Is that some official rule of dating?” Newt seized him with a suspicious look and the bartender shrugged.

“It’s an equal exchange. There has to be a compromise, man. If he won’t realize he’s making you miserable, you’re going to end the relationship anyway.”

“How much are ya charging per hour?” Newt snorted and then giggled little drunkenly. “Bloody big words you’re usin’.”

“Just write it to him,” Gally waved his hand and took the empty glass away.

 _A wise move_.

***

Newt didn’t even know why exactly he decided to return to Thomas’ place and not to his. It must have been Gally’s idea as well, or maybe he was just tipsy enough not to care that much. When he finally arrived, the clock showed something past midnight, which was not _as_ bad as it could have been. He kicked the shoes off, shrugged the jacket and stopped right at the doorstep to the living room where Thomas was sitting at the table, staring at him with a strange expression on his face. The room was quiet and sort of dim, and it made Newt wonder how long was he even sitting there like that.

“The TV is broken?” he asked, grinning like a loon, feeling the alcohol working on him pleasantly. All the worry dropped from his shoulders after third glass, and the fourth and fifth were like a nice, calming bonus.

Thomas was alright, no dishevelled appearance, no marks on his skin, no lipstick on his shirt. Of course, his expression signalized he wasn’t very happy, but oh well, he could sucked it up for one night, couldn’t he.

“Had fun?” the brunet asked instead of an answer and Newt finally noticed a phone he was playing with on the table. He took his own cell from his pocket, just to realize he missed 5 calls and 7 texts.

“You had been busy,” Newt waved with his phone, slowly reaching the second chair and sliding into the place.

“Are you drunk?”

“A bit,” the blond shrugged. “More like tipsy. I can still hold a thought.”

Thomas’ lips were a thin, worried line and Newt wondered if that was what Gally was talking about. Sometimes he wanted to be able to read thoughts, that for sure.

“How was What’s-her-name?” he asked lazily and Thomas frowned at him even more.

“We had lunch.”

“I thought dinner?” Newt propped his chin on his palm, watching the brunet expectantly. “With more spicy things to follow up.”

“If you’re trying to guilt trip me into something that hadn’t even happened, you should first look at your fucking state,” Thomas growled, leaning forward dangerously. “Because you’re fucking drunk and you don’t drink _alone_!”

“Since when I have a written manual for that?” Newt responded calmly. “Drinking only with a guy I will fuck, fucked or am fucking at the moment, neat.”

“This is not fair-,”

“Not fair!” Newt stopped him, anger suddenly igniting in him like a firestorm. “You know what’s not bloody fair?! You telling me this while all you were doing all this bloody week was going somewhere with _her_!”

“Brenda is a friend!”

“Well, so is whoever I could have been drinking with, for fuck’s sake!” the blond banged his fist against the table and stood up angrily. “So either calm your bloody tits or just shut the fuck up!”

For how much he really wanted to leave and slam the door again, this time when Thomas could actually hear it and maybe even yell about it, he was actually sort of grateful when the brunet didn’t let him leave and caught him by his hand, swung him around and pressed against the table.

_“It’s a good thing,” Gally said. “You either get a blaming show, showing you he’s not worth the effort cuz it hadn’t been just a meal with the ex. Or he will fight. You could even get laid. Not something I want to think of with you two, but yea.”_

_“He’s good in bed, you should think about it every day,” Newt told him back and Gally flipped him off._

It was a good thing. Thomas fought, and he brought it to the act itself, and it felt angry and a little punishing, but hot and dirty, and Newt just hoped with his slightly drunk brain the table was going to hold through the ride.

As well as the neighbours. 


	40. One Shot - Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Anonymous said: (Tumblr)  
> I’ve just re-read Strings and noticed that Strings one shot requests are open. One-shot request where Newt and Teresa get into an argument over who knows what, but Teresa says a few things that cause Newt to shy away from being so open about his and Thomas’ relationship. Thomas finds out what happened and tries to talk to Newt about it- he eventually opens up about a lot of things and there’s lots of fluff maybe? I’m not very good at explaining things so I’m sorry if this didn’t make much sense♥

“She’s obviously faking it,” Newt pointed out, not liking how Teresa scoffed, disagreeing the whole time. “Look at her. The whole body posture, it’s just a stupid act, how can you not see that?”

“All I see is a heartbroken woman,” Teresa opposed stubbornly, frowning. “Heartbroken and angry. She wants revenge and I understand that.”

“She wants his money, that’s about it,” Newt shot back.

“Of course, because every woman wants men’s money,” she uttered.

“I haven’t said that,” he immediately refused, taking the papers with the testimony. “But if this one had really been in love, I certainly doubt that.”

“Yes, because you have an immense experience with love and relationships, yeah?” she mocked him unmercifully, and it gave him a slight shocked stop. “Doing so great in your current one as well, the perfect material you can judge from.”

“I-,”

“Not to mention,” she interrupted him coldly. “I seriously doubt you know how a heartbroken person behaves. Or at that matter, what even is going on in a proper relationship. As if flaunting around, making eyes on your man is what the main thing is.”

“That’s not fair,” he croaked out. He hated how she could do this, to get so well under his skin and dig and stab, absolutely stripping him from his defences. If he was without the experience he gathered in The Maze Runner, he would fling her off, call her names, and didn’t care. But now he just couldn’t. And it bothered him immensely, because it was a good defence, a useful one, not caring.

But he cared now. He cared and he wanted to be cared for, and hearing such things made him feel really shitty about this whole thing.

Yes, it was his first time with somebody. Yes, he didn’t really know what to do. Yes, he definitely hadn’t started the whole thing the best way he could, pulling all sort of stupid stunts, but they were fine now, weren’t they? They coped with everything and Thomas seemed fine about it. Happy.

“Life is not fair,” Teresa scoffed. “Deal with it. And if you want to do me a favour, stop judging how people act when someone they loved throw them away, would you kindly. You know shit about that.”

He almost missed how she left the office, only clicking of her heels against the floor signalized she was retreating.

***

Newt hadn’t watched the time. He didn’t allow himself to stop working; he needed to prevent all those nasty thoughts creeping up on him. He spent an hour on staring into one spot and contemplating how exactly he should approach to the case when he literally couldn’t understand it. It made him realize only one thing – stop sharing. He thought being with somebody meant acting like normal, not being ashamed of it. But now… he wasn’t really sure. Teresa seemed to be pissed off about it all the time and he couldn’t think of any other possible outcome than just keep it for himself and let it out only at home, in safety. Not to mention the yesterday talk left him speechless for long, and he even refused to go to Thomas’ place, and rather beaten himself over it home.

“Oh man, what a dedicated worker,” he heard a familiar voice and before he could even rose up his head and look, Thomas was behind him, gently touching his shoulders. “Have a moment for me?”

“Maybe after work, Tommy,” he mumbled back, grudgingly shying from the touch. “This case is complicated; I need to give it some more thought.”

“Shouldn’t Teresa be helping you?” Thomas let go, circling the table with a worried crease between his eyebrows. “Or I can. If it’s too much.”

“It’s not, just… something I’m not very familiar with,” Newt waved him away, looking back into the text. He hated that. He wanted to touch. He really craved for a kiss, and even for something more childish, like… _good job_ or _don’t overwork yourself_. Something.

But they were at work. It shouldn’t be personal here, should it.

“Is something the matter?” Thomas asked, always so perceptive.

“Just busy.”

“Even for a kiss?” There was hope. Newt gripped his pen tighter, holding himself from jumping up and kissing the air out of him, and after a moment forced himself to shook his head.

“Sorry,” he breathed out. “Later, yeah?”

“Alright,” the brunet said, probably confused, but left anyway. Newt let out a long, suffering breath and got back to work.

It sucked.

***

“Fuck Teresa and whatever she told you!”

Newt almost jumped out of his skin when the door abruptly opened and Thomas barged in. He looked angry, but not at the blond from the expression, more like generally pissed off.

“You know better than to listen to her poisonous talk, don’t you?” the brunet approached the table unhappily. “She’s just trying to overpower you, geez. Stop taking everything she says seriously.”

“What?” Newt stared at him with wide eyes. Have he been talking to her? Or…?

“Minho told me,” Thomas answered his silent question with a sigh. “Because she can’t even keep her mouth shout about this stuff, have to brag to everyone who would listen.”

“Oh my god,” Newt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t tell me you went after her and scolded her like a kid?”

“No,” Thomas refused immediately. “Because that’s what you’re gonna do.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” Newt murmured. “Now please… let me work.”

“No,” Thomas said again. “I haven’t got my kiss. Also, you’re working overtime. I want to have some quality time. And you too.”

“I have lots of things to do-,”

“I have lots of things to do _to you_ too,” Thomas interrupted him uncompromisingly and circled the table just to stop at Newt’s side. He extended his hand and waited. Newt let out a growl and took the hand with a sneer, letting the brunet pull him up and seize him in a hug.

“Please, don’t let her get to you,” Thomas whispered softly. “She knows shit and she has her bad days where she enjoys people suffer. Yours is the only opinion that matters, alright?”

“That’s pretty much not true,” Newt mumbled, but hugged him back, burying his face into Thomas’ shoulder. “She was right about me not knowing what heartbreak is… the case… is difficult without the knowledge I suppose.”

“You mean the woman who’s totally faking it?” Thomas inquired, leading them both towards the couch in meantime, and Newt went willingly, until they crashed at their destination, snuggling together.

“You think so too?” Newt asked incredulously and Thomas snorted.

“Totally. Have you seen her body language? What a bad actress,” he smirked, kissing Newt’s forehead lovingly. “Can I get the kiss now?”

Newt snickered and nodded shortly, leaning over and kissed his boyfriend soundly. Maybe the experience from here wasn’t as bad – as long as he had Thomas to back him up when his own arguments fail. 


	41. One Shot - Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: (Tumblr)  
> But could you do one where they move in together? Newt seemed to love Thomas’ and vice versa. Im curious to see whose place they choose ;) Not to mention watching them trying to adapt, Newt being a workaholic and Thomas explaining the excessive furniture 

Thomas was surprised they survived the way up the stairs without looking; it must have been some kind of miracle. Of course, he stumbled about twice at the end, but Newt always pulled him back up, not even interrupting the kiss, so they somehow made it to the flat – to Newt’s flat – in the middle of the city – and once they stepped over the threshold, they fell on the floor in the hallway and Newt locked his feet around Thomas’ hips, keeping him in place.

“Your place is convenient,” Thomas let out between ravishing kisses, barely keeping up with his breath, and Newt laughed into his shoulder and moved to his throat, where he was trying to leave as many marks as he could.

“That’s why I chose it,” he replied with a nibble and Thomas groaned, grounding his hips as a reflex, eliciting a deep moan from his blond lover under him.

“Bed?” he tried, but didn’t move an inch anyway, just started to strip Newt from his jacket, hastily opening buttons and pulling it out of trousers. Once he had the blond half naked, he completely forgot about bed or anything, he just couldn’t stop touching and kissing, and Newt apparently didn’t even think he should reply to that.

It was obvious anyway.

***

“We should move in together.”

Newt blinked and raised his head, staring at the brunet in silence.

“Or… not?” Thomas cringed at such reaction and Newt cleared his throat before speaking. It seemed sort of nervous and Thomas couldn’t chide himself enough for ruining such a pleasant post-coital bliss they shared (in a bed).

“You sure?” the blond asked, his fingers apparently unconsciously scraping over Thomas shoulders – not painfully, but it wasn’t very common.

“Well… yeah?” Thomas shrugged, and the gesture made Newt stop with the motion and sprawl his fingers over the skin instead. “We’re together for a year now?”

“Are you asking?”

“I’m just pointing out,” the brunet commented Newt’s incredulous tone. “I mean… we are together all the time anyway. Keeping two flats seem a little pointless, no?”

“But I like my flat,” Newt opposed. “And you like yours.”

“Yes, but I like you with me. I don’t need two places, just one is enough, and it’d be the best one if you’re in it.”

“Stop with the Shakespeare’s crap,” Newt sighed and his hands slowly reached Thomas’ hair, raking through it like he was sort of mad, and sort of teasing. “You just want me somewhere where you can see me all the time.”

“Yes,” Thomas agreed without hesitation. “But I also want you with me. Without thinking that maybe you left the light on at your place, or the stove, or you forgot stuff you need for tomorrow’s work there…”

“My place is convenient,” Newt opposed.

“Mine is bigger,” Thomas offered.

“Oh really.”

“Stop it,” Thomas snapped after Newt’s fingers that slid down to his mouth, tracing his lower lip teasingly. “I meant the flat.”

“Sure you did.”

“Dirty minded devil,” Thomas stuck his tongue at him and Newt chuckled before diving in and kissing him softly.

“I’ll think about it,” he promised him.

“Yeah?” Thomas watched him suspiciously and Newt smiled.

“Yeah.”               

Then Thomas forgot what he wanted, because Newt thought it was time for round two.

***

“But that would mean your flat would be off limits completely!” Minho whined and Thomas just rolled his eyes, looking back to the file he brought with him. Now he already knew telling Minho first was a mistake when Newt hadn’t even said yes yet.

“It’s already off limits,” he mumbled as a response. “As if the incident wasn’t enough for you to keep away from there.”

“It wasn’t an incident,” Minho protested, taking a bottle with water and drinking from it before continuing. “I just didn’t know he was there as well. Seeing him just in your super huge shirt was actually kinda interesting, gave me a better insight, yeah?”

“It wasn’t super huge.”

“It almost reached his knees,” Minho grinned wickedly.

“No it didn’t,” Thomas immediately countered. “Maybe half of his thighs.”

“Still super huge.”

“It’s a hockey dress, what do you expect?” Thomas grumbled, his mind suddenly occupied by that sole picture of his lovable boyfriend flaunting around the flat only in that, hair wild and feet bare, making himself coffee as if Minho _and_ Teresa weren’t even there, staring at him in silent shock.

“Well, should have probably expected you are going to move in together soon,” Minho shrugged and let out a long sigh. “They grow up so fast…”

“My god,” Thomas thought the eye rolling was going to make a permanent damage at this rate. “It’s not like we are going to get married.”

“That’s just a question of time,” the Asian winked at him. “So your place, huh.”

“I don’t know,” Thomas scratched his head. “I mean, it’s bigger, yeah? But his place is in the middle of the city.”

“Oooh, convenient.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thomas grumbled – it was Newt’s argument as well. Convenient.

“Then get a completely new place,” Minho suggested. “So there won’t be any hard feelings. You both move out into your own new love nest.”

”That’s…” Thomas wanted to say _stupid_ or _troublesome_ , but maybe he was right. A fresh start for both of them – not to mention getting something with more rooms than two would be a lot better.

If Newt would even agree with moving in in the first place…

***

“You should stop spending so much time with Teresa,” Thomas mumbled, watching Newt scribbling something on the edge of the page. “Or you’d become as jaded as she is.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Newt smirked at him. “I have you to keep me entertained.”

“You spend more time at work than at home,” Thomas immediately shot back and Newt chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“True,” he said. “But that’s only because I’m imagining you naked half of the time. That’s why the work takes so long to get done.”

“Riiiight,” Thomas glanced at the pile of already finished work that spoke volumes on its own and back at Newt. “Just sayin’.”

“Well,” Newt closed the file and smiled at his boyfriend smugly. “It’s either work. Or you.”

“What do you mean?”

“That we _should_ move in together,” the blond tapped his fingers against the desk. “To be honest, I was getting a little tired from the constant reminders I don’t have enough spare clothes at your place. Or vice versa.”

“See,” Thomas couldn’t stop himself. “That’s what I thought as well.”

“I also understand why you think your place is better,” Newt continued as if Thomas hadn’t said anything, and the brunet considered it a good thing. “But I thought maybe getting a different, more spacey one would do us good?”

Thomas completely understood why Newt stared at him in confusion when he started to laugh. At least they still thought the same way.

***

“Too much stuff.”

“It’s from two flats,” Thomas reminded the pouty blond when setting a box down. “Of course there is too much stuff.”

“This place is a mess,” Newt piped again, standing in the middle of the so-called living room, surrounded by packed boxes, almost too full. “Why did I agree to this again?”

“Cuz you love me?” Thomas grinned, manoeuvring through the maze of obstacles, until he could pull the blond to him, kissing him soundly. “And cuz you wanted to live with me?”

“Must have been some irrational thought on my part,” Newt grumbled, but kissed him back anyway, locking him in a hug. “Just so you know, this may not work.”

“Of course this will work,” Thomas nibbled his ear, his hands slowly sliding down, towards Newt’s butt, squeezing in a reprimanding gesture. “Because it’s us. And that’s all that matter.”

“Look out, an optimist,” Newt teased, but let himself to be pulled even closer.

“It’ll be great, you’ll see,” Thomas whispered to his ear gently, nuzzling his cheek.

“I believe it will,” Newt muttered. “I’m just wondering…”

“Wondering?”

“The bed is not here yet,” he peeked at the brunet with faked innocence. “Do you remember where you put all the blankets?”

“In a ba-oh.”

A grin Newt sent him made Thomas chuckle and nod, and then pick Newt up and carry him to the provisory bedroom where they dumped everything _softer_ , including the blankets. And where he also dumped his lover, just to pounce him right after.

A new flat needed a proper welcoming after all. 


	42. One Shot - Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> justirrestible asked:  
> I was asking for a one shot where newt teases thomas a lot, like during work with innuendos and “accidental” touches in front of his collegues (especially minho, aris, teresa ofc)? That would be cool:) x
> 
> nomadshipper asked:  
> Maybe when they suddenly met with one of newt’s previous ONS partner and he went ‘oh! Youre THAT guy!” And made thomas panicked and jealous while newt busy plotting to make the guy to go away? (I remember the part gally said newt’s previous partners didnt behave well?)
> 
> Hope you like it! <3 (sorry for mashing it up together)

"It’s a big case, you know,” Thomas pointed out, his brows furrowed while staring into the file.

“Bigger than yours?” Newt’s voice sounded from his side and Thomas barely stopped the groan coming up his throat. It came from Aris anyway, a desperate sound of someone who suffered immensely.

“Focus,” Thomas glared at his boyfriend, but Newt only sent him a grin and instead of holding back he approached him, leaning heavily against the backrest of Thomas’ chair.

“I can take care of it,” he said as if nothing happened just a second ago.

“With _big_ case I meant it’s for at least two people,” Thomas mumbled, trying very hard to ignore how Newt’s fingers started playing with his hair. It was a low blow from him, because he always did that when they cuddled or were after sex, and doing it now, in an office full of people watching them (or tried not to watch them in Aris’ case) definitely counted as a mischievous thing to do.

“I’m out,” Teresa said immediately. “Have my hands full with the previous two cases. Not to mention I don’t want to work with pigs.”

“You wound me,” Newt snorted and she rolled her eyes, gesturing towards the file.

“I meant the accused,” she uttered, making Newt snicker and return his attention to Thomas’ hair, now actually sliding his fingers down his nape, scraping his nails over the sensitive skin. Thomas bit his lower lip to keep quiet, and it only made Newt to double the effort, which definitely made Thomas to plan revenge for it later. Newt tended to do that lately, all those touches and remarks when people were around, as if it gave him some wicked pleasure (it probably did, because when he finally got home, to _their_ home, he had that smug smile playing on his lips like he was expecting Thomas to go down on him any minute – and Thomas always did, because touching his butt in the middle of the meeting or whispering dirty words when he tried to act serious was counted as the worst degree of teasing).

“I’ll take it with Newt,” Minho offered, earning an appraising hum from the blond. It wasn’t that long since Minho actually started calling him _Newt_ , but Thomas counted it as his influence, since he never used _Isaac_ when talking about him, he always referred to him by his nickname. One day Minho started to roll with it without a pause and Thomas barely noticed, until Teresa pointed it out, stubbornly holding to _Isaac_ all this time.

“Mmmkay,” Thomas wrote both names into a column and then realized Newt was already working on one bigger case for which he didn’t know the result yet, so he turned around, making him finally stand straight again and stop leaning over the backrest.

“What about your last case? It’s still not done, right?” he asked incredulously and Newt smiled.

“I’m good at multitasking,” he had the nerve and winked at him. “You should already know that.”

“Oh man…” Aris whimpered. “This amount of flirting is burning my brain, seriously.”

“It has been a year, how come you’re still not used to it?” Minho grinned, apparently not fazed by it at all, and took the file from Thomas’ table. “You even walked on them before.”

“Thank you for reminding me,” Aris grumbled, fidgeting on spot. “Can we please talk about work again?”

“It’s all about work,” Newt opposed. “One is just a bit more physical-,”

“Riiiight,” Thomas stopped him with a threatening look, earning a Cheshire cat grin from his boyfriend. “Take the file and go with Minho.”

“Minho took the file.”

“Go with Minho.”

“How dominant,” Newt purred and actually followed the laughing Asian out of the office, leaving Aris and Teresa in the room alone.

“He’s doing that on purpose, isn’t he,” Aris piped after a moment and Teresa sighed.

“Of course he is,” she gave Thomas a pointed look. “Because these two dorks just love to make the rest of us miserable.”

“Minho doesn’t mind,” Thomas mumbled, even though he would prefer if Newt was bit more subtle. But he had to admit sometimes it was seriously an immense fun to see others react to it, especially Aris. The only downfall was it left Thomas often very uncomfortable – he wanted to drag Newt somewhere private and show him exactly what those teasing touches did to him – but he mostly couldn’t do a thing, because it was public and they all _knew_.

“Minho is a pervert,” Teresa commented sternly. “He thinks you two are hilarious. He even placed a bet when you’re going to snap and drag him away.”

“Of course he did,” Thomas shook his head, not even surprised anymore.

***

“Those two are on a verge of shooting the other. The lawyer of the accuser is probably the only barrier keeping them apart,” Aris informed him once Thomas left his office, ready to see them with Newt and Minho already waiting for him outside. “Might be really interesting.”

“No doubt,” Thomas nodded in agreement – for what he read in a file when Newt finally came home yesterday and pointed out some amusing facts while lazing around on the sofa, letting Thomas hold him like a teddy bear – the case was dragging itself forever now, and both of the participants were too stubborn to admit defeat.

Their _cuddle position_  became a little like a ritual, since Newt was almost always coming home after Thomas, not leaving anything unfinished at work, and occasionally all they wanted to do was to lie down together, watch a movie or just snuggle and nod off.

The whole living together thing was a strange concept at first, for both of them. A sudden knowledge they didn’t have their own place to run to when the shit hit the fan was a little scary, but so far they coped just alright. Thomas actually relished the feeling, the closeness and the bound that made them to come in terms with more of their relationship than before, and Newt seemed to like it as well.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Minho showed the thumbs up and they all followed Thomas through the door to the meeting room, already occupied by two arguing men and one desperate looking female in a business suit.

“Sorry for the wait,” Minho started, all of them noting the painful tenseness in the room, but at least it grew quiet. “How about we all sit down?”

Thomas was thankful both men calmed down a bit, sitting as they were ordered to, and the lawyer seemed greatly relieved of the silence as well. Both gentlemen were around 30 or maybe 40, Thomas couldn’t really tell. They looked sharp and, to say it cleverly, _rich_ , with perfectly fitting business suits and expensive looking watches, and they observed them carefully as if there could have been danger coming from them as well. The older man seemed very guarded when all of them sat down as well, and the younger one’s face grew a little curious. Thomas had to agree they were quite a bunch, all of them young and for them maybe even inexperienced looking, but he was keen on proving them wrong.

In the end he was really glad the lawyer of the older man was quite open-minded.

***

“Excuse me,” Thomas heard the younger man call out when most of them were already away from the meeting room, and it made him stop and turn around with raised eyebrows. The man wasn’t looking at him though, but at Newt, who stared back with strange expression on his face. “Isaac, was it?”

“Yes,” Newt replied coldly.

“You don’t remember me, I suppose,” the businessman approached him with a smile, reaching for the door to close them – right in front of Thomas’ face, not looking even little apologetic about it. “From the night in Hilton?”

The door clicked closed.

Thomas’ blood ran cold.

***

“Your ex?!”

“Not my ex,” Newt mumbled, staring at his feet with a frown on his face. It had been about ten minutes since he got alone with that guy, with a _client_ in the meeting room, apparently reliving their _night in Hilton_. “Just… a guy.”

“A guy you spent a night with in Hilton!” Thomas repeated the phrase with gritted teeth and Newt cringed at it.

“It’s already like… two years ago. Maybe even longer…” he muttered, still not looking up, as if his feet or the floor were super interesting. “Look, it’s nothing-.”

“Nothing!” Thomas groaned, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. “He’s your _client_!”

“Yes, so?” Newt finally looked up, defiance shining in his eyes. “It’s not like I’m keen on fucking him again, alright? It was a one-night stand! I don’t even remember that guy!”

“So he made you remember in the meeting room, for quite long,” the brunet growled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Newt frowned and crossed his arms, a defence posture that made Thomas even madder. “If you think we had had some quick hand job there or something, I must disappoint you.”

“If you had _anything_ with that guy, I’d have to go and hurt him right now.”

“Oh please, cut that overprotective crap,” Newt rolled his eyes. “He means shit to me, and you know it. So please, stop insulting me. If I grew violent towards all your exes, or specifically What’s-her-name that kept on flaunting around you, you wouldn’t like it either.”

“I specifically remember us arguing over her, with you getting wasted-,”

“And us having sex on the kitchen table, yes,” Newt finished it for him, sighing deeply. “Look. He’s just one guy. I didn’t even know his name. Yes, we had sex _once_. As I had sex with you in the hotel. I never saw him again after, and since I don’t even remember him, or the performance, I highly doubt it was something worth looking forward to anyway.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel better-,”

“It was supposed to give you a memo to calm down,” Newt finally took a step closer, reaching from Thomas’ shoulders, touching him lightly. “He means nothing.”

“He’s your client.”

“I’ll blow Aris to take him instead of me,” Newt boldly teased him and Thomas had to stop himself from snorting by the power of his sheer will.

“Aris is afraid of you,” he pointed out, trying to ignore how Newt’s hands inched closer to his neck, and then connecting with the skin there.

“Makes it easier,” the blond took another step closer, bringing them together. “I’ll just scare him enough to take the case.”

“You’ll let him take the case?”

“I’ll let him take the case.”

Thomas stared at him for a while longer, searching for something – anything – that could point him to what to think exactly, but Newt gave nothing away, he was sincere and his fingers slowly reached Thomas’ hair, raking through it out of habit, and it was calming and really, really pleasant, and… _Goddamn, I should be mad at him_.

“Don’t be mad,” Newt brushed their lips together, allowing a small smile curve the corners of his mouth. “You know I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“See,” the blond pecked him gently. “There is nothing else than this. Not some random idiot without memorable sex skills.”

Thomas groaned, not really happy with such image – as if the sole fact Newt was actually sleeping with him, that he let him touch and taste, wasn’t enough of the mental strain.

“For the record,” the blond added, apparently seeing Thomas’ dilemma. “You were the first guy I wanted to repeat performance with. A lot.”

“I don’t know if that was supposed to help…”

“Yes, it was,” Newt chuckled. “Meaning… You were special. I liked you from the first moment. I remember your name. Your face. Your body. Your voice when you were moaning, gasping my name-,”

“This is not _helping_ ,” Thomas whimpered, not to mention Newt’s hands were already traveling along Thomas’ back, towards his hips, pressing them together.

“Yes, it is,” the blond grinned at him cheekily.

Yes, it was. Thomas decided to kiss him instead of a verbal reply.

Aris, who entered the office with a question on the tip of his tongue, decided to bleach his mind with alcohol after work, calling them _horny maniacs_.

But he agreed to take the case anyway.


	43. One Shot - An Instrument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: (Tumblr)  
> I was wondering maybe we could have a little one shot where Thomas discovers Newt used to play guitar or sing or something and Newt shrugs it off but Thomas just adores it cause its so unpredictable of him? If its not too out of character? Maybe Newt was drunk and let it slip and Thomas gets hung up on it in curiosity?
> 
> Molly asked: (Ao3)  
> And If you’re still taking requests I would like to give an idea of mine: A lazy Sunday, where Newt and Thomas have a lazy day, just cuddling, watching a movie maybe (maybe even sex dunno :D) and its all domestic and fluffy (and maybe when Thomas wakes up Newt is still sleeping and he gets up to make breakfast for his boyfriend) and just mainly fluff and fluffiness :) 
> 
> I hope you like it! <3

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little drunk when you have a good company.”

"Of course,” Thomas chuckled, holding his boyfriend around his waist while the blond tried to unlock the door to their flat, missing the keyhole every time, with a string of giggles escaping him at each attempt. “Let me.”

“I can do iiit,” Newt batted his hand away, trying three more times without avail, and pouted. “Fiiine. You do it.”

Thomas held his hand gently, leading it towards the keyhole while nuzzling Newt’s cheek, earning a purr in return and a soft kiss on his jaw, and then the door clicked and finally let them inside, stumbling in the darkness until Thomas hit the light switch. Brightness filled the hallway with sharp intensity and made both of them squint against it, until Newt hid his face in Thomas’ shirt, humming affectionately.

“Shoes off,” Thomas urged him, helping the blond out of it, but Newt cooperated only barely, hanging on Thomas’ shoulders like an affectionate cat, until he finally decided he should get rid of those boots and pulled them off before returning to his lover.

“I want to play you,” he whispered to Thomas demandingly, a tone the brunet loved to bits when Newt used it. It was hungry and strangely powerful - not an order, but a luscious wish that bounded him to obey.

“Play me?” Thomas chuckled, tracing Newt’s lips with his thumb, earning occasional licks in return, even a nibble. Newt was pressing against him deliciously, his body a graceful, lean curve, and there was no doubt he wanted to get Thomas naked – he only hadn’t been pressing it as much so far.

“Like a guitar,” Newt murmured, catching Thomas’ hand in his, pulling it away from his mouth just to capture Thomas’ lips in demanding kiss. It made Thomas to pick him up, almost as a reflex, and move them inside the living room, falling onto a couch.

There was the familiar hotness rising in Thomas’ gut, spreading pleasantly into his limbs, and it must have been the same for Newt, because he started shedding his clothes off as if he just got an order to do so, and then clawing on Thomas’ shirt and belt in the similar fashion. The brunet didn’t hesitate, only smiled when Newt grumbled something about stupid belts, and raised his hips to get rid of the trousers. The blond leaned right back, his fingers dancing over the contours of Thomas’ body, and it was adorable, and hot at the same time, a Thomas just promised to himself he’d leave Newt to do what he wanted, even though he had the urge to flip them over and ravish the blond like a caveman.

“There is… E,” Newt mouthed at Thomas’ ribs, his tongue flicking over the skin there. “H is right under.” He moved lower, scraping his teeth over Thomas’ hip, and Thomas had to bite his lips to hold the moan in. Nails scraped his sides, leaving pink lines in their leave, and Thomas couldn’t help himself, his body was immediately responding, and when a chuckle came from the blond, Thomas knew the reason.

“I think I’ve found the G chord.”

“Oh man,” Thomas groaned, and it quickly morphed into a shameless moan, because suddenly there was _heat_ and an absolute _perfection_ engulfing him, and Newt was humming contently around him and it was the best, the complete and unconditional best. He barely registered how Newt’s fingers moved along his sides in repetitive motions – as if he was really _playing him_ , tuning him like a fine instrument, and yes, _yes_ , he definitely was, because Thomas was ready to do what he told him, anything, anywhere, anytime, making the best sounds under his lead, and he was absolutely content with that.

Judging from the pleased sounds Newt was emitting he wasn’t alone.

***

Newt wasn’t really hangover, but he still looked a bit dazed once he woke up, hair wild and one shoulder bare in the oversized shirt he snatched from Thomas, and the brunet took a pity on him, cancelling everything they wanted to do on Sunday and just let him crash on the couch and go make him something to eat. Newt appeared to be super grateful for the food _and_ coffee, and in his contentment he pushed Thomas on the couch as well, and once he was satisfied and full, he lay in front of his lover happily, playing the little spoon with a big smile on his face. There was Despicable Me in TV and Newt seemed to like it, so Thomas just hugged him from behind, cocooning him in a blanket and his own body heat, and rested there, caressing his side and hip in long, calming strokes. Newt was basically purring under his touch, and it was so nice and warm Thomas decided to just keep at it until he would get told to stop.

“You’d be a great guitar player, you know,” he whispered to Newt’s ear and heard the blond chuckle and catch his wandering hand, squeezing it in a firm grasp.

“You think so?”

“You played me nicely,” Thomas confirmed it, a little slyly to get a proper reaction. “Like a pro.”

“I have some experience in that already,” Newt wiggled a little to find a better spot, pressing against Thomas even more, and the brunet just tightened his hold, nosing his hair.

“Yeah?”

“Played a guitar for a bit before,” Newt mumbled. “Not anymore, but… yeah.”

“You played a guitar?” that immediately caught Thomas’ attention, and he more felt than heard Newt laughing.

“Why such wonder?” the blond glanced at him, his eyes slightly glazed, but bright, and Thomas opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t really put it into words. The sole image of Newt standing on a stage with a guitar in his hands, the pose, the elegant curves, the long fingers strumming over the strings – it was like a strange revelation, an arousing and exciting vision he couldn’t just shake off.

“It’s sexy?” he blurted out after a moment, making Newt blink in confusion before snorting and turning around to face his lover fully. Thomas couldn’t pass the chance to press him closer by his naked butt, since he was still in nothing else than the shirt, and Newt let out a delighted giggle, almost as if he was drunk still.

“I’m sure I can play you a lot better than a guitar,” he whispered to Thomas’s ear darkly. “You’re the finest instruments from them all.”

Thomas didn’t protest.


	44. One Shot - Mastermind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: (Tumblr)  
> Can you do a one shot of Strings where Newt tries to surprise Thomas for his birthday or vice versa? Love the story so much!! 
> 
> 0_Sherry_0 asked: (Ao3)  
> haha,, I don´t know like something happened and one of those two are suspected to have done it or to have something to do with it or something like that...and the other one tries to show them that he´s innocent ... or something like that
> 
> Sorry it's so short T^T

“All I wanted to do was to surprise you…”

Thomas took a deep breath, then another, and his eyes fell on Ava, who still stood in the room, arms crossed on her chest, watching them both expectantly. She reminded him of an exasperated mother just waiting for a moment when she can scold her _son_ , and Thomas had to admit she probably had a reason for it. But Newt just sat there, all sad puppy dog eyes and shoulders dropped low, and Thomas couldn’t bear the thought of getting the blond punished just for the fact he was a bit reckless.

It _was_ for Thomas after all. And even though it was stupid, he got the memo which was sweet and absolutely charming. If he didn’t get blamed for falsifying important documents, that is.

“If you’re done,” Ava gave both of them a serious look. “There won’t be any sanctions. No charges. It was a misunderstanding. But don’t let it happen again, Isaac. Wouldn’t believe you could be so reckless, of all people.”

The blond remained quiet, not even looking at her, and Thomas noticed how he nervously bit his lip, fidgeting on spot like a petulant child wanting to get out of the confinement.

“I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Thomas decided to put her worries at ease, even though she didn’t really pay him much attention. But it apparently was enough, because she turned around and left the room with head held high, not looking back.

“Let’s go home?” Thomas offered and Newt finally got up, looking a little disappointed.

“Are you mad?” he asked the brunet quietly and Thomas reached for him, pulling him closer and kissing his head.

“Nope,” he replied honestly, happy Newt actually locked him in a hug. “But next time be more careful.”

“Sorry,” the blond mumbled. “I got so engrossed in keeping it from you I forgot how it could look like to others.”

“Well, at least you got cool reputation of a badass in the company,” Thomas chuckled and tugged a little for the man to move, so they could leave. “Not to mention… I’m kinda looking forward to your birthday surprise?”

“It’s not a surprise anymore,” Newt sighed, finally pulling away and reaching for his jacket. “But I’ll do what I can to make it better. I’m sorry I messed up your b-day.”

“You didn’t mess up anything,” Thomas immediately flicked his forehead, earning a yelp. “Let’s go home, my sexy criminal mastermind.”

“Kinky,” Newt finally chuckled a little and followed him out of the room, intertwining fingers with him.

For Thomas it was already enough of a gift.

(Although he hadn’t said no to the lovely dinner and hot b-day sex after. He also got a collar from Newt with hysterical laughter from the blond. He stopped laughing right the moment Thomas put it on _him_ and made him repent. They both liked it.)


	45. One Shot - An Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emma_and_orlando (Ao3)  
> Okay. May I give you a prompt? I dunno how it works, but I just have to give you a suggestion or something?  
> Okay so Newt and Tommy are like together for ages, and Thomas feels like they are supposed to get married. He hopes Newt will ask him, but he doesn't. And there is a lot of doubt that Thomas dares to ask the blonde. But if it finally goes good (with the help of Minho ofcourse) they get married and its gonna be a bigggggggg celebration.  
> I dunno... I just don't want you to stop with this fanfic. I hope you are going to do some one-shots.
> 
> I hope you like it, hun :) I didn't include the wedding part itself, since it was basicalyl what I did at Staying Up, so I hope this is enough <3

“It has been years!”

“Wow, so whaaaat!” Minho threw a paper plane at Thomas and rolled his eyes. “I’ve known you for centuries and you don’t want to marry me.”

“Of course I don’t want to marry you, it would bring me to a mental hospital,” Thomas threw the paper plane back and Minho snickered, folding its sides neater.

“You see,” he started thoughtfully. “Maybe he just doesn’t wanna? Just because you’re together for like… what, five years? That’s not a seal of pre-marriage.”

“It just feels right,” Thomas let out a sigh, sitting on a sofa with a defeated expression. “And he always seems like he want to tell me something, but in the end he just trails off and…”

“So ask him first,” Minho shrugged. “If you want to, ask him. Maybe he’s waiting for you. And you’re waiting for him. And that way you won’t even get a dog, not to mention marriage.”

“What if he says no?”

“You won’t get married,” Minho gave him a look, basically telling him something about the highest degree of idiocy. “What do you think?”

“I mean…” Thomas trailed off little helplessly and Minho threw the plane back at him.

Thomas and Newt were _a thing_ for five years now. They were stable, well known for it, and Thomas dared to say _happy_. Yes, of course, there were rumbles and bumps along the way, occasional arguments and non-talking periods of time where both of them probably even regretted moving in together before, but it just fell back together somehow. Thomas got kicked off the bed during the night for several times again as well – usually during those non-talkative periods. Probably not even because Newt was vicious and didn’t want him near, but his reflexes just sorta came back to life, kicking and tossing and turning and Thomas just decided it was better to leave him alone for a while.

They never broke up though. Maybe it was a little expected at first, but they never did. They didn’t talk at all, and then talked a lot, and this talking period was long and exhausting, but they needed to set another borders, another rules, until they were both content and could fall back into the perfect rhythm.

The thought of marriage got to Thomas quite recently. He didn’t dare to tell how to Minho, because he would probably call him a bird brain, but yes. Recently.

It was a funny thing, really. A stupid meeting with clients, Newt all impressive as he always was, making all those people swoon, and Thomas could see on them they would be all over him if he gave them an opening. And Thomas was watching, silently, until Newt suddenly glanced back at him and gave him a warm, loving smile.

A small, simple thing.

But at that point Thomas just couldn’t hold the thought away anymore. The love, the need, the cherished feeling of being able to claim – all those things were amazing, and would be probably even better official. Like a seal on their relationship, a little, probably pointless, blessing that would make him smile like a dork anytime he would look on his hand and saw a ring and remembered he belonged to this man, and this man belonged to him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it ever since. It had been a week now. And it bothered him terribly.

“Don’t fry your brain, loverboy,” Minho said with a snort. “Just watching you is making me sad.”

He was probably right.

***

“Are you kidding? He is atrocious.”

“No, he isn’t!” Teresa’s voice replied as if she got mortally offended. “You have just ridiculously high standards!”

“Since when?” Newt chuckled back and at that point Thomas decided to enter before he got accused of eavesdropping again.

“Since him,” Teresa pointed at Thomas anyway and the brunet just smiled innocently at them and approached his lover to give him a small kiss. “You two are seriously sickeningly sweet.”

“You just need to keep looking,” Newt offered, circling his arm around Thomas’ waist and pulling him closer. “Jumping the first guy in vicinity won’t do you any good.”

“Thanks, Freud,” she rolled her eyes, gave Thomas a little wink ( _why? What have I done?_ ) and left Newt’s office with loud clicking of her heels.

The fact that Newt and Teresa sort of became besties was still a little scary to Thomas. His childhood friend and his boyfriend teaming up on him sounded very, very terrifying, and he was pretty sure Minho would back _them_ up and not him, just because it was hilarious.

He didn’t even know when or how it happened, but Teresa dropped her antagonistic attitude towards the blond and some point and started to take him seriously, even smiling at him, and calling him _Newt_ when she was in good mood. Her threatening _Isaac_ always signalized something was terribly wrong and they all took it as a good indicator of her current attitude.

“Teresa and her love troubles, volume 5?” Thomas asked with a smirk when he was sure she was far enough not to hear them anymore.

“Yeah, she is ridiculous,” Newt nodded, caressing Thomas’ side gently. “But that’s not what brought you here, is it?”

“Just wanted to see you,” Thomas shrugged, but he felt nervous and Newt saw it on him. Sometimes Thomas wondered if he was this obvious, or if Newt already knew him too well.

“Now you see me,” the blond challenged him. “So what’s the issue?”

“I… just…” Thomas trailed off, avoiding his eyes and Newt hummed, his fingers searching for naked skin and found it on Thomas’ neck, gently touching there.

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right,” Thomas lowered his voice, an automatic reaction for such intimate pose, and Newt smiled at him, nodding shortly.

“A lot,” Thomas added and it made the blond laugh a little.

“I love you a lot too, yeah,” he assured him, slowly inching towards Thomas’ hair.

“I want to be with you,” Thomas continued, and it sounded stupid, like from a child that couldn’t form the proper thought, and Newt watched him with raised eyebrows.

“You are with me,” he informed him and it almost made Thomas gave up, because hell no, this was not how he wanted it to go. But it kept on eating him, and he felt it was close to exploding, so he refused to give up now.

“I want to be with you… more.”

“I’m not sure if that’s legal anymore,” Newt deadpanned. “If you don’t mean sex though. I mean, we can totally have sex now. I’m always for having sex with you. Like. All the time.”

“Yes, but no, that’s… not it,” Thomas sighed, already impatient with himself and his inability to spit it out, and it was ridiculous really. This guy loved him, and he loved this guy back, and it was perfect, so, maybe why ruining it with a stupid crap like a piece of paper telling them they are a pair? They already were a pair.

“Tommy, spit it out,” Newt brushed their lips together and it made Thomas almost black out for a moment from the unexpected gesture, and maybe that was also why his brain decided to take a shortcut and just shot it out like a cannonball.

“Let’s get married!”

“Right now?” Newt piped. “You think Minho can do it? He always pull out the weirdest shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could.”

“I don’t mean-no, I don’t think Minho can do that,” Thomas rolled his eyes, the nervousness dropping from him like a lead, and Newt pulled him closer by his collar, kissing him sweetly on lips.

“So let’s get married somewhere better?” he whispered to Thomas’ mouth softly and the brunet just couldn’t say a thing, because his brain stopped working altogether.

It was pretty cool.

(They got married two months later. It was small but very loud. Thomas regretted making Minho his best man, because his speech made both newlyweds blush so hard they almost couldn’t breathe. They sprayed him with champagne as revenge.)

**Author's Note:**

> Betad gradually by elenlith <3
> 
> Soooo. Here we go. New series. Wooo! I'm so excited <3 I hope I won't disappoint, because the prompt is awesome!  
> Edit: Prompt goes like this: hello!! I just wanna share an idea about possible au setting?? I get the idea from my current favorite book..  
> it’s about an NSA (no strings attached) club, like ‘one night stands anonymous’ underground dating service for business executives and the likes. so if someone managed to get the appointment, the broker will send a card with burner number, time and place for meeting with random member (mostly bored, adventurous executives with no desire to have a long term commitment) to have an anonymous one night stand. So, like Minho and Teresa give thomas an appointment card for his birthday ( reluctant and freaked out at first because the word ‘random’ and ‘anonymous’) and meet Newt in weekend, which led to ONS and slight crush, (and moping around for the rest of the weekend) only to meet him again in monday and find out he’s the lawyer representing new partner company (which lead to another freaking out).  
> (in the book there’s a bartender with super muscles somehow I imagine him as Gally because he said “when life gives you lemons, what would you do?” “Bite it like a man”)  
> I really like your writing, it’s like you just turn every story into gold. reading your fic gives me good and satisfied feelings.. Sorry for the bother.. I just kinda wanna share the idea XDD
> 
> I know there is not much yet, but... what do you think? Feel free to share, to ask, to say, to critize, to everything! <3
> 
> DEFINITELY CHECK OUT THIS AMAZING TRAILER FOR STRINGS MADE BY RSPRODZ! http://lokidiabolus.tumblr.com/post/107108188290/rsprodz-thomas-newt-strings-fanfic-trailer


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